A Darker Destiny: Year 1
by Erishon
Summary: AU. Dark Harry. It's time for Harry to start Hogwarts, but what happens when Dumbledore realises Harry was never raised by the Dursley's? Brought up as heir to the throne of Karthul, Harry is powerful, intelligent and as dark as they come.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Anything related to the Harry Potter series is the legal property of J.K.Rowling. Original Characters are mine and mine alone.

**Summary**: How different would Harry have been had he grown up in a different enviroment and how will the Wizarding World deal with their "Hero", raised as heir to a city that covets darkness.

**Authors Note**: The story is rated M as it will contain graphic violence and scenes of torure. You have been warned.

**Pairings**: Set during Harry's first year, so none this time around.

**Notes**: This story is set during Harry's first year and will carry on to cover all of his seven years at Hogwarts (In seven separate fics). The stories will be completely different because Harry is a completely different character and canon events will change in accordance to him.

**Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived**

It was the night of Halloween and across the country people were preparing bowls of sweets and crisps for the children who would no doubt come to their doors. Proud parents were dressing their children up in their old clothes, painting their faces with wax paints and listening as their little devils, angels, pirates and witches rehearsed their poems for the fifteenth time before finally leaving the house. It was not long before the streets were swarming with mythical creatures and fairy-tale characters, all laughing as they ran from house to house with their precious bags of collected candies.

On one street, completely unnoticed and ignored, a man in a long, black robe strode calmly through the festivities. The few adults that did notice him smiled and nodded towards him, whilst their children laughed at his impressive costume. He did not smile, nor show any sign that he noticed these people at all. He continued walking, past every house on the street and then every one on the street after that. When he arrived at his destination - a two-story cottage in a small, quiet area of the village - he proceeded to the front door, allowing the gate to bang shut behind him. At the door he paused, making no move to knock upon it, or to open it. Instead he reached into his robes, removing from within them a long, dark and slender piece of wood, aware of the tingle that passed through his fingers as they met the cold surface of the wood, as though the wand itself anticipated the events that would transpire once the door was unlocked. With a single flick of the wand, the man pointed it towards the door.

"_Alohamora_."

The word was hissed into the night, seemingly carried upon the wind in a constant echo. Within seconds of the lock clicking the door flew open at incredible speed, slamming loudly against the wall.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's Him!" Shouted a man's voice from the first door in the hall.

Walking towards the door the robed man brandished his wand again, and with a whispered word brought it down in a graceful arc towards the door from behind which the voice was coming. In a blast of red light the door shattered into splinters of wood and showered the room in dust. The man caught a glance of someone disappearing up a flight of stairs before his attention was drawn to the dishevelled man in the centre of the room. He was tall in height, his messy black hair strewn with pieces of the door that had been blown in only a few seconds before, as were his clothes. In his shaking hand he held a wand, and on his face he wore a look of mingled revulsion, contempt and fear.

"Voldemort." He hissed through his teeth, the grip upon his wand increasing to the extent that his knuckles seemed translucent.

Slamming the door behind her with a locking spell, Lily Potter quickly covered Harry with his blanket, as if hoping that the flimsy, powder blue material would protect him more than she could herself. She was trapped now, desperately hoping that help would come even though she knew in her heart that none would in time. The house was warded with the Fidelus Charm, anti-apparition wards and silencing charms for complete protection. Somehow Voldemort had slipped past the Fidelus Charm - through betrayal or dark magic - and had not breached any of the other wards. To the outside world the house was invisible, silent and inaccessible.

Pacing around the room she could hear things breaking and glass shattering, and she flinched every time as though each thing were hitting her. The feeling was horrible; waiting for her own death to come. She knew the prophecy as well as James; none of them were under the delusions that they had the power or abilities needed to defeat Voldemort.

As if to reflect her thoughts a scream sounded from downstairs followed by an all-consuming silence. She would recognise the voice anywhere, even in the form of a pain-filled scream. James had lost.

Moving to the door, she pressed her ear against it, listening for any movement outside it. Before long she heard a "**Thump**" of someone coming up the stairs.

Lily and James had gone into hiding exactly two months ago - ninety-two days spent in the same house.

**Thump. Thump. Thump.**

Lily had walked up those stairs a thousand times.

**Thump. Thump. Thump.**

Every time Harry had cried or she had gone to bed.

**Thump. Thump. Thump.**

This house had been her prison for ninety-two days.

**Thump. Thump. Thump.**

She knew every detail there was to know about it.

**Thump. Thump. Thump.**

There were sixteen stairs in the staircase from the living room. He was at the top.

She had jumped backwards only a few seconds before her locking spell crumbled; the door was thrown wide open and smashed violently into the wall. She drew back her wand, ready to fight, but when she went to cast a spell she found it wasn't in her hand at all.

"Looking for this?" The robed figure of Lord Voldemort hissed from beneath the cloak, holding her wand up in front of her before throwing it through the window behind her.

"Now, stand aside girl."

* * *

"My Lord, we have foreseen the rising of a great power; a child at a crossroads in his own destiny. Should he carry on down the path the he shall soon be set upon, he will become a figurehead for the light. The dark will fall at his feet, and he will leave none standing, not even Karthul. However, should he be taken from this path, he could become a practitioner for the dark, more powerful than any that have come before him. If you should take him as your heir, Karthul shall prosper; his goals would be more ambitious than any of your ancestors, even greater than your own. The decision rests in your hands."

There were only a few moments of silence as the man considered the seer's words, weighing the options presented to him. Their wisdom was great, but not once in the history of the city had one predicted an enemy strong enough to destroy it. He had little choice.

"Where can I find this child?"

* * *

In the early hours of the morning on the second of August, a man apparated onto the corner of Privet Drive.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of"

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.

"I know you haven 't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. "

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But -- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone.

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's -- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean -- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it -- wise -- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I -- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Lily an' James dead -- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel, and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up, one small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on. From the shadows cast by the streetlights a man appeared, glancing around to make sure the three people were really gone. Convinced he bent down, scooping the child in his arms and placing the letter in his pocket. With a final glance at Privet Drive the man was gone, taking Harry Potter with him.

Inside number four Privet Drive Vernon and Petunia Dursley slept soundly, whilst all over the country people were meeting in secret, holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"

None of them would discover that Harry Potter had disappeared until almost three years later.

**A/N:** A slightly revised version of the Prologue. Please note that the section beginning "In the early hours of…" onwards is for the great majority entirely quoted from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone". I did want to rewrite it, but every time I tried it came out very crappy, and since the AU technically only starts when Harry is taken there didn't seem any sense changing it in the end. So, the drivel surrounding it is all mine, but the big chunk of really good writing belongs to JK and sadly not me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Anything related to the Harry Potter series is the legal property of J.K.Rowling. Original Characters are mine and mine alone.

**Summary**: How different would Harry have been had he grown up in a different enviroment and how will the Wizarding World deal with their "Hero", raised as heir to a city bathed in darkness. Brought up to be feared and repected, tutored in the darkest arts and physical combat, Harry Potter is not the caring, innocent boy Dumbledore had hoped he would become, and he's ready to leave his mark on the Wizarding World. Dark Harry.

**Authors Note**: The story is rated M as it will contain graphic violence and scenes of torure. You have been warned.

**Pairings**: Set during Harry's first year, so none this time around.

**Warning**: Graphic violence in this chapter (Might not be too disturbing to anyone else, but anything concerning eyes squicks me).

**The Heir of the Secret City**

Having grown up as future heir to the throne of Karthul, it was no surprise that Harry Potter was considered exceptionally powerful, dangerous and extremely intelligent from a very young age. His adoptive father, Lord Jared Karthulus, was the one who had taken him from the doorstep of his relatives and brought him to the hidden city, located on an island south-east of that of Azkaban. He had provided Harry with the best of everything, especially when concerning his training. Harry learned fast and enjoyed studying in his own time and so had taken to his teachings in magic better than any other student his tutors had ever taught before. He was classed highest amongst the prodigies that had graced the royal bloodline and his powers had shocked everyone as they quickly discovered that there was very little he was incapable of mastering.

At the age of five, whilst being taught the art of Occlumency, Harry has successfully linked to his centre within the very depths of his magical core. Discovering that his element was water he had dedicated the next two years to researching elemental abilities in secret, and after much trial and error had finally gained a basic control of his powers. Such a feat was thought to be almost impossible for the majority of wizards to accomplish, and so his father had been shocked during their next duel when he had sent a blast of fire towards Harry. With a wave of his hand the child created a watery shield and manipulated it to surround and quench the flames. Harry had just smirked before stunning his astonished father. Under counsel Jared had decided to keep Harry's elemental abilities a secret from the Karthul populous, and had arranged for Harry to be secretly apprenticed to a half-blooded vampire with mastery over the element.

He had progressed quickly in almost all aspects of magic. His tutors agreed that he could easily pass any Karthul school examination given to him at the age of six, and would have no trouble with anything a wizarding school would provide him with as Karthulian schools were much more advanced than their wizarding counterparts. At the age of eight he had mastered both Occlumency and soon after Legillimacy, and then at nine had mastered his elemental abilities, again much to the shock of everyone. Mastery over elemental abilities - detectable through the changing of the elemental's eyes when using their elemental powers at a high level - had been achieved only twice in history by human wizards. It was again during a duel, this time with his father, two of his tutors and three of his father's best guards, that he had achieved such a feat. Having surrounded the child they had rushed him together, only to be thrown backwards as a dome of water gathered around the suddenly floating child. Upon closer inspection his eyes had turned from their bright emerald green to a solid glowing silver-blue. His elemental abilities were still kept secret from the public and only Jared's most trusted advisors and Harry's tutors knew of them.

So Harry had resumed his tutoring, which had progressed simply until completion the week before Harry's tenth birthday.

Sitting on the end of his bed, twirling a throwing spike between his fingers, Harry Potter looked out of his bedroom window at the moon. Soon it would be midnight, and he would turn ten years old. In the wizarding world Harry knew this was nothing special, however by the laws of Karthul, once aged ten, Harry could officially be made heir to the throne through a blood-binding ceremony.

It wasn't often that Harry was nervous - he had been taught never to be - however tomorrow was no doubt going to be one of the most defining moments of his life. He had been waiting and preparing to become heir for the past seven years, training almost every day in almost every branch of magic. He had also learned several muggle fighting techniques and, along with his father, was one of many people in Karthul to carry several muggle weapons. He was never without his katana, which had been a present from his father on his eighth birthday. The blade was forged from silver and the handle was made of black steel and wrapped in acromantula silk with a base that bore the Karthulus family crest. The unusual materials were specifically chosen by Jared during the blades creation due to the fact that they were all easy to enchant; the sword was enchanted never to become blunt, charmed to make sure it could not be lost or stolen, charmed to make it physically impossible for the sword to be used against Harry and enchanted to clean itself. It was the only one of Harry's weapons that he always carried, rotating his various throwing knives and spikes as he pleased.

When it turned one o'clock and he was still finding it hard to sleep Harry tried to study, practiced with his weapons some and, after almost three hours, worked on his spell creation. He was agitated and threw the work aside in frustration when he realised he wasn't getting anywhere. He was on the verge of ordering one of the house-elves to fetch him a sleeping potion when he realised it was nearing 5 o'clock and with a discontented sigh he pulled himself towards his bathroom to prepare for the oncoming day.

* * *

The ritual of blood-binding was long, tiresome and rarely ever used. It was almost long forgotten in the wizarding world and was used only in Karthul among the prominent families, though Harry was the first to be bound into the royal bloodline. The ritual itself lasted almost two hours, and was quite painful on all parties involved as a bond of blood and magic was formed.

Harry was aware of everything the ritual entailed, and so was wearing only a pair of plain trousers underneath his formal black robes. He walked out of his room, his katana strapped to his back and several custom-made throwing spikes concealed within his clothes. He had ordered breakfast in his bedroom, using the time alone to settle his nerves so as to appear calm and aloof during the ritual. As he was becoming a member of the royal bloodline of Karthul the event would be extremely public - a thing Harry was extremely used to by now, though until now he had never done more than stand by his father's side - however he refused to appear before the people of Karthul looking anything but icy.

The main hall of the castle was full of people but Harry was able to pick out his father even from a floor above.

There was no other word that could describe Jared Karthulus better than "majestic". Standing around 5,11 in height and with a muscular build, Jared looked to be in the prime of his life. His hair, which fell just below his shoulders, was a strange silver colour and his eyes were icy-blue with cat-like pupils. His robes were custom tailored and were coloured in black with the symbol of Karthul embroidered upon them. The most amazing thing about his appearance though were the wings protruding from the man's shoulder blades. The great feathered wings, silver and white in colour and folded gently against his back, were preened to perfection and stood out vividly against his dark robes. It was a rare occasion Jared actually used them to fly - Harry had only witnessed him doing so during a couple of their duels - but they were Harry's favourite thing about his father, as they only added to his regal look. Nobody in Karthul was completely sure when the Karthulus bloodline had mixed with a magical race to produce the strange physical attributes, however members of the family were instantly recognisable by them.

He noticed Jared look up at him, and motion with his hand for Harry to come down.

With a final calming breath Harry descended the staircase into the gathered crowd.

Heads turned to look at Harry as he slowly descended the spiralling staircase, his head held high and a slightly cold look in his eyes. As he reached the ground he bowed in well-practiced fashion to those he knew to be high standing in the Karthulian hierarchy before making a beeline for his father.

"Nervous?" Asked Jared as Harry neared him, looking around at the assembled people in what appeared to be complete indifference.

"Not at all. When do we begin?"

Harry was always the same when surrounded by people he was not familiar with. When surrounded by his father and his tutors he was open and could talk for an age, but with an audience he was closed and almost completely silent.

"In a few minutes," His father answered, nodding to several people who quickly made their way to the main doors. "Are you ready?"

Harry just smiled before turning towards the main doors with his father.

The city of Karthul was well protected as the majority of the city structures was based within a behemothic tower in the centre of the island. In the centre of the tower was a smaller tower the same height as the outer tower, and this tower was connected to Karthulus palace on the roof of the tower. The roof, on which the palace was built, was where the ritual would be performed, with the prominent families watching from the sidelines and the majority of Karthul watching through magical means from wherever they had been gathered.

The crowd quickly parted, forming a circle around a blocked off area in the middle of the gardens, and Harry quickly walked with Jared to take up their spaces in the circle. The only other person in the circle was a slightly aging man grasping an old, leather-bound book. It would be him who performed the ritual.

Muttering filled the crowd as they took their places, and silence descended as the old man began to speak. Harry tuned it out - he knew what was being said and knew that it was not necessary for him to listen. He was surprised though, when the old man asked if anyone objected. In ritual terms this was a question asked only to Harry and Jared as the parties taking part, however one of the wealthier - and slightly more obnoxious - members of one of the more prominent families decided to take this moment to speak up.

"Should we really by introducing a half-blooded orphan brat to the royal line, surely a pur--"

His speech was cut off as a scream rang from his mouth.

In Karthul, such blood-prejudices that were common throughout the wizarding world were far rarer, and looked down upon, considered an insult made only by fools. Likewise insulting anyone in Karthul usually lead to a fight (which there were very few laws against - if you insulted anyone you would get what was coming to you). Therefore the second the man had spoken several people had grasped their wands, and Jared had clutched the handle of a knife hidden within his robes. They had been beaten though, as with a casual flick of his wrist Harry had sent a spike in the man's direction, which had struck his right eye dead centre.

Jared smirked as the man fell to the ground screaming. He had seen Harry do this several times, and the spike he had used was clearly identifiable. When he was seven, the throwing spike had become one of his favourite weapons of choice and over time he had customized them, and created several different designs. The spike lodged in the man's eye was made of silver, and Jared instantly knew that upon stopping two small hooks had unfolded from the inside so that it could not be removed. The eye was beyond repair.

"If you value the other eye," Said Harry calmly, his own eyes fixed on the man, "then I suggest you watch your mouth in future."

The man's face was covered in blood now, with some strange watery substance leaking from around the spikes edge. With several painful moans the man attempted to remove the needle, and the hooks did their job. The eye, whilst being pulled free of the man's head along with the spike, was torn almost in half. The torn eye, still attached by a string of flesh and leaking a slightly pink liquid across the man's cheek, swung slightly as the man fell face down on the ground whimpering. He seemed unable to scream and clearly, given by the blood coming from his mouth, had bitten his own tongue.

Harry took the opportunity to walk to him; picking up the now free spike and wiping it clean on the man's robes before turning around and motioning gently for the guards to remove him.

Calm was restored quickly and the ritual continued. Both Harry and Jared removed their outer robes, leaving them only in their trousers. The old man, chanting all the while, handed Harry a knife, with which he slit his left wrist vertically before passing it to Jared who copied his movement. All three within the circle took up their respective chants, and after several moments the spilled blood mingled on the ground between Harry and Jared's feet. With a flash of magic both collapsed to their knees struggling with the pain racking their bodies.

Harry almost screamed out as he felt his magic connect with Jared's. Every cell in his body seemed to be on fire as he was magically changed from Potter to Karthulus. The pain was almost unbearable - several times more extreme than that of the cruciatus curse - and eventually Harry gave in and opened his mouth in a scream.

Jared was not faring much better. It was clear to him then that Harry held much more power than himself - he felt it invade his body and try to become one with his own as soon as the magic had been triggered - though he still could not determine how much power the child possessed. His magical core was throbbing as it grew to accommodate the new levels of power being thrust into his disposal. It was less painful for him than it was for Harry though, as his body did not need to change at all.

Several minutes later, with another flash of light, the pain stopped abruptly and both Harry and Jared fell to the ground.

Jared rose first, running a hand through his hair and looking at Harry's still form lying on the ground. It was several minutes until the boy moved, and Jared immediately noticed the claw-marks on his chest and arms - apparently he had tried to claw the pain out during the ritual and had large gashes covering his body.

Harry's hair, which fell almost to his waist, had clearly darkened into an even deeper shade of black. His emerald eyes had also changed, though only in the pupil, which now matched the cat-like shape of Jared's. The child stood shakily to his feet, and after a few moments, when they knew the changes were finished, Jared approached him.

He had moved two steps forwards when Harry fell onto his hands and knees, screaming in pain. Harry's back was moving, as though there were something crawling around under his skin, and the sound of snapping and crunching bones filled the silence. A second later his back split in a shower of blood that splashed on the surprised faces of several onlookers. Jared hadn't been expecting Harry to receive the wings through the magical adoption, but seconds later they had sprouted from the two large tears on his back.

The feathers of his wings, dripping and coated with blood along with the whole of Harry's back, were coloured like his hair though slightly darker and with a slight redness to them. They were smaller than Jared's but were more appropriately sized for someone of Harry's build. It was clear they were still weak, as they flapped downwards and hung at an odd angle as Harry collapsed unconscious to the floor, falling face down in the quickly expanding puddle of blood beneath him. Seconds later he was levitated into the air and was being rushed to the medical wing of the palace.

* * *

Harry hurt all over when he woke up, and winced at the light shining from all around him. It was several moments before his eyes adjusted to the light and several more before he found the strength to move. He noticed his wings at once, and guessed they were the reason he had been so uncomfortable in bed. They were impressive looking but he couldn't see them fully, and quickly walked to the wall-length mirror beside his wardrobe.

He was slightly taller now, though probably not an amount that would be noticeable to anyone but himself. The wings were the most obvious change of course, and he spent several minutes trying to move them before working out how they worked. The feathers were shining black with a reddish tint around the bottom edges and down the centre. His hair had changed too he noticed, as had his eyes. Looking into his own eyes in the mirror - the cat-slit pupils staring back at him - was quite disconcerting and a small shiver passed down his spine.

Absently he rubbed the small, practically invisible blemish upon his forehead. He knew a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt had once been there, however his father had ordered it magically removed when Harry was five when he had collapsed screaming with his hand pressed against it. It could still be seen under bright light, if one looked for it, but Harry barely ever noticed it. Occasionally, for reasons Harry did not know, it gave him pain. The first time it had been dreadful, as if his head were being torn apart, but after the scar removal it had gone to a dull headache that was barely noticeable.

Grabbing his wand - 12 inches, ebony and containing a single wing feather from his father - and several weapons, including his Katana which he had to wear at his waist as he couldn't work out how to wear it with his wings in the way, Harry quickly dressed and headed for his father's office.

* * *

Time passed in Karthul and Harry adjusted to taking his place as heir. A little under a year later he received, to his surprise, a letter from Hogwarts. He had heard of the school, and was aware that his birth parents had attended, but Harry had no intention of following in their footsteps. Still, he would have to ask his father how the owl managed to find the island when it was so highly protected. When he did ask, he was shocked when he was informed that not only had Jared allowed the owl through, but also the seers had informed him that it was critical that Harry attend Hogwarts. Several days after Harry and Jared were travelling to Diagon Alley.

"Are you positive I have to attend?" Harry asked for the fifth time since leaving the island.

Harry didn't want to set foot in the wizarding world. He was well aware of his station there, as their saviour of sorts. He didn't really keep up to date on the events within the wizarding world like Jared did, but he knew that he had been declared dead several years ago by their Ministry of Magic. At least, if he was forced to attend this school, he could make quite an entrance.

Jared had decided to accompany him, and had already arranged a house for Harry to live in during his Hogwarts years (when he wasn't staying in Karthul). Harry had asked why he couldn't come to Karthul for every holiday to stay, but Jared had told him that because of his station in the wizarding world it was most likely that they would want to know where he was at all times. Harry laughed at the idea of them trying to keep tabs on him, but agreed with his father's logic that returning to Karthul would be unsafe. He would visit though, and he swore to return for Christmas and New Year.

The house Jared had purchased was located in London, close to the entrance to Diagon Alley. It was a spacious two story detached villa (to make warding easier) and had three bedrooms, a kitchen and dining room, two bathrooms and two "utility rooms". Jared and Harry, upon arrival, had quickly converted two of the bedrooms and the utility rooms into a potions lab, a small library, a room for training and a vault which only they could enter. Harry had immediately claimed the master bedroom (which had an en-suite bathroom and walk in wardrobe) and had set to modifying it to be somewhat like his room back in the palace. It had taken him quite a while to unpack and place everything, and Jared decided to stay the night and accompany him to Diagon Alley the next morning.

Harry had only been to Diagon Alley once, and had been rather excited because he was barely ever permitted to wander through sectors four or five alone (a very sensible decision as, even with his skills, he was likely to be attacked if he wandered the streets of Karthul alone and it would not do for Harry to kill the civilians). In Diagon Alley there had been no such threat, and Harry had been able to wander the alley alone, though he didn't buy much.

Jared realised how much Harry was looking forward to their shopping trip when he was woken the next morning by a wave of water crashing down on his bed. He ran from the room long before Jared had risen from the sopping wet bed. Jared and Harry had both retracted their wings, which was painful and would be more painful when they brought them back out as they would have to burst through skin again. Jared was mostly immune to the pain, and the skin almost automatically healed after years of practice, but Harry had only learned to retract his wings half a year ago and bringing them out again left him weak and bloody. They also had charmed their eyes to appear normal, and Harry's had been charmed to the same colour as Jared's.

Harry had put on muggle clothing for the trip. His top was black and long sleeved with sleeves that flared out at the ends. He had considered wearing a pair of leather trousers, simply to intimidate every witch and wizard in Diagon Alley, but had decided against attracting so much attention. Instead he donned a simple pair of fitted jeans.

Jared had, at Harry's insistence, requested they not be guarded and had warned Harry not to blow his cover and reveal his name unless he wanted to be mobbed and, most likely, dragged away by the Ministry for questioning.

Harry, unlike Jared, didn't keep up to date with the running of the wizarding world or the Ministry of Magic, so he was quite shocked when they reached the Leaky Cauldron several minutes later and, after tapping the bricks on the back wall in the correct order, Jared ushered Harry into the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"What happened to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, shooting a puzzled look at his father.

"What this?" Asked Jared, gesturing towards the entrance. "It's quite a long story."

**A/N:** Revised Chapter 2, just a few little changes nothing major. I've also slightly fixed the description of Karthul below as, reading over it I realised I was an idiot and had explained it wrong.

**Karthul -** As stated in this chapter the city is basically built inside a giant tower on an island south-east of Azkaban. The outer tower is split into eight floors, and these are generally referred to as sectors. Sectors 1, 2 and 3 are living areas for regular families, sectors 4 and 5 are filled with shops, sector 6 has several large meeting halls, businesses, the court etc. sector 7 is where the prominent people live and sector 8 is the roof (where the palace and palace gardens are). The city is quite dark and, as suggested, violent and home to a number of creatures and races that are unwelcome in the wizarding world (You'll see more later in the story). The city was founded by the Karthulus family long before Hogwarts, and took its name from them, and its existence is completely unknown to the wizarding world (except of course Jared's spies). The central tower that runs through all 7 sectors and connects to the palace on the roof is where Karthul is really run from; everyone who works for Jared works in the central tower. It is basically the control building for the entire of Karthul. I've uploaded a picture of a quick floorplan I have made for Karthul and you can see this by checking my profile; it's not very informative, I made it mostly for me so I could work out some things that will be happening later, but it might help you in understanding the structure a bit more.

x**E**x


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Anything related to the Harry Potter series is the legal property of J.K. Rowling. Original Characters are mine and mine alone.

**Summary**: How different would Harry have been had he grown up in a different environment and how will the Wizarding World deal with their "Hero", raised as heir to a city bathed in darkness. Brought up to be feared and respected, tutored in the darkest arts and physical combat, Harry Potter is not the caring, innocent boy Dumbledore had hoped he would become, and he's ready to leave his mark on the Wizarding World. Dark Harry.

**Authors Note**: The story is rated M as it will contain graphic violence and scenes of torture. You have been warned.

**Pairings**: Set during Harry's first year, so none this time around.

**Note**: This chapter isn't written in any style I've written in before - it'll be kind of textbook style (aka no characters talking, just a "Here's what happened" page).

**Excerpt 1:**

_The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts._

_Chapter 5: Harry James Potter - The Boy-Who-Lived._

_Harry James Potter was born on the 31st of June to James Potter and Lily Evans Potter. He is famous for his defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort (see chapter 4) and for being the only person to ever survive a direct hit from the killing curse on record. Shortly after both events, aged only a year old, Harry Potter disappeared from the doorstep of his muggle relatives (where Albus Dumbledore had left him for his relatives to care from him) and is now believed to be deceased._

_Official records state that 2 years, 3 weeks and a day had passed since Harry Potter was left on the doorstep of his relatives house before his disappearance was discovered, when a member of the elusive Order of the Phoenix (a group formed by Albus Dumbledore to defend against The Dark Lord, see chapter 7 for more details) alerted Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who claimed charge of the child's care following the death of his parents and incarceration of his godfather, that the child did not appear to be living with his relatives. The Ministry of Magic has reported that the relatives of the boy-who-lived were questioned under Veritaserum as to the whereabouts of the child. The reports clearly show that Harry Potter never did live with his relatives, who had no clue that the child was even supposed to be in their care. Magical scans for memory charms or other such spells showed none had been used._

_A manhunt was launched for the Potter child, but it is said that all locating spells failed. A year later on the 24th of November 1984, Harry James Potter was pronounced officially deceased._

_As stated earlier though, the subject of the child's death is still heavily debated. A handful of people believe him still to be alive (many sightings have occurred over the years, but the Ministry of Magic claims them all to have been hoaxes) for several reasons. Most suspiciously is the attitude of the goblins of Gringott's Bank, where the Potter account lies. As stated by Ministry Legislation regarding the monetary assets of a deceased witch or wizard states that "when a witch or wizard dies, if having not made a will and having no magical blood-relatives to divide monetary assets between, the entire contents of their Gringott's vault shall be split between the British Ministry of Magic and Gringott's Wizarding Bank". This legislation, written up between the late Minister Grogan Stump and Gringott himself, remains unhonoured, and the entire contents of the Potter vaults lay buried within the bowels of Gringott's Bank. The goblins refuse to split the money, though they will provide no reason as to why they should not. As the Ministry can provide no solid proof of the Potter heir's death, there is nothing that they can do to enforce the law._

_Still, the apparent death of Harry James Potter is described as the catalyst that brought about several of the largest changes in the wizarding world to date._

_Upon the announcement of the boy-who-lived's death the assumption was made that a group of errant Death Eaters (see chapter 4) were responsible, taking vengeance upon the child for the defeat of their master. This assumption, which was later proven to be inaccurate, spurred the Death Eaters who had remained in hiding following The Dark Lord's downfall to once again take action and attempt to find their fallen Lord. Attacks by Death Eaters became more frequent, though never reached to the catastrophic standard of when Voldemort was at the peak of his powers until almost two years later._

_Two years later during a full-scale attack upon Diagon Alley the loyal Death Eaters, having found the essence of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in Albania, used Dark Magics to return their master to corporeal form. The ritual, which included the massacre of over thirty people within Diagon Alley, was witnessed by many. The time taken to perform the ritual weakened the Dark Lord's forces and in the end they were forced to retreat, though their master had already been revived._

_The most major event that transpired as a result of the attack on Diagon Alley was that concerning the case of Sirius Black (Chapter 12)._

_Sirius Black, considered at the time one of the most dangerous wizards in Azkaban Prison, was said to be the Potter's Secret Keeper, and was said to have betrayed them to Voldemort. He was also convicted of the murder of thirteen muggles and one wizard - Peter Pettigrew - who, according to eyewitnesses, had tracked Black down after his "betrayal" of the Potter family. This was disproven when over twenty-five eyewitnesses at the attack on Diagon Alley claim to have seen Peter Pettigrew amongst the Death Eaters._

_The public immediately called for an investigation be performed into the true situation surrounding the death of the Potter family and Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black was removed from Azkaban and, after being questioned with Veritaserum, was cleared of all charges (see page 76 for full story of The Potter's Secret Keeper). Later, when Sirius (Harry Potter's Godfather) learned of his godson's death he immediately blamed Albus Dumbledore. Sirius was quickly reunited with Remus Lupin, a lycanthrope and close friend with both Sirius Black and the Potter family, and after forgiving each other, each for suspecting the other was a traitor, they boldly launched a two-man battle on the Death Eaters. Together they managed to capture several of The Dark Lord's inner-circle (including Lucius Malfoy and Ballatrix Lestrange, who had escaped from Azkaban only a week before her recapture and Walden McNair). When Minister Fudge was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the people were quick in voting Sirius into power, and he in turn employed Remus as his right hand._

_Black's first project as Minister was to solidify all the forces of wizarding Britain. Together Minister Black and Remus Lupin formed the Quartus Alleys - expanding and fortifying Diagon Alley whilst bringing in all magical shops from Wizarding towns such as Hogsmead and services such as St. Mungo's. Diagon Alley was linked with the Ministry and fortified after its expansion, with several watchtowers installed, hundreds of wards cast over it and Aurors stationed at the entrance of each of the four alleys checking wands it was easily the safest place within the wizarding world. The work required was incredible and hundreds of wizards and witches worked constantly to have it completed, however with the entire power of wizarding Britain pooled into one fortified place, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had very little chance of taking it._

_The town of Hogsmead was turned into a single large fort with direct entrance to the Ministry of Magic. The purpose of Fort Hogsmead was to offer protection and support should Voldemort attempt to take Hogwarts, the largest target for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's attacks after the Quartus Alleys and the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore, though still blamed for Harry's death by Minister Black, allied the Order of the Phoenix with the Ministry of Magic so that they could combine forces and work together against Voldemort._

_Minister Black has never officially stated his opinion on whether his Godson is truly dead or not, but it would seem he believes it so, and it is certain the event pushed him to take matters into his own hands._

**A/N:** Revised Chapter 3 Very short chapter in the form of an excerpt from a book. I've never written anything like this before so it's a bit choppy, but I had no way of getting all that information in without looking at it from several different people's POVs and implementing several time skips or by having someone tell it all story form, which I tried and it ending up being increasingly annoying. The story progresses from here as though Jared has just explained all the things in this chater to Harry (though obviously not in a Hermione "quote-a-book" fashion). There'll maybe be a couple of more chapters like this during the course of the fic, but only 1 or 2 if even that. A few things got changed, but it was mainly just stupid mistypings that I had made.

x**E**x


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Anything related to the Harry Potter series is the legal property of J.K. Rowling. Original Characters are mine and mine alone.

**Summary**: How different would Harry have been had he grown up in a different environment and how will the Wizarding World deal with their "Hero", raised as heir to a city bathed in darkness. Brought up to be feared and respected, tutored in the darkest arts and physical combat, Harry Potter is not the caring, innocent boy Dumbledore had hoped he would become, and he's ready to leave his mark on the Wizarding World. Dark Harry.

**Authors Note**: The story is rated M as it will contain graphic violence and scenes of torture. You have been warned.

**Pairings**: Set during Harry's first year, so none this time around.

**Note**: 3 new chapters in 1 day. That's my biggest update ever. Yay for me!!

**The Quartus Alleys**

"So, they're called the Quartus Alleys?" Asked Harry, watching several people pass through the Ministry checkpoint ahead of him in the entrance. The men stationing the entrance were clearly Aurors, and were scanning the wands of every person who walked past them. One boy, claiming to be a new Hogwarts student, was asked to provide his Hogwarts letter.

"How should we get past them? My Hogwarts letter is addressed to Mr. Potter-Karthulus, I think they'll notice." Said Harry, removing the two sheets of parchment from his pocket. He had been worried when the letters had arrived that the person addressing them may have realised that he was alive, but Jared informed him that it was all done by magic and that nobody would see the list of first year students (except a list of muggle-borns that would magically be delivered to the deputy head) until the Sorting ceremony.

After a quick muttered discussion Jared cast an untraceable spell across the letter. Harry's name quickly changed to Mr Crawford, and Harry quickly rehearsed himself. When he and Jared walked up to the entrance they were immediately stopped.

"Wands."

Jared handed over his wand, giving the false name of Jason Crawford. His wand was scanned (showing nothing serious as Jared had wiped all traces of dark magic from it) and he had been provided with a badge.

"And your wand?" Said the man gruffly.

"I don't have one; I'm only starting Hogwarts this year." Said Harry, trying to look nervous. The man quickly requested his Hogwarts letter, which Harry handed over.

"Put this on, don't take it off." Said the man handing Harry a badge. "Anyone not wearing a badge will be immediately stunned by Ministry Aurors and will be taken to the Ministry of Magic for questioning."

The badge, printed with the fake name of James Crawford and his status as a new Hogwarts student, was quickly attached to the front of Harry's top. They were ushered through the archway and into the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"Diagon Alley is the biggest of the four alleys, and it's got most of the shops you'll need for school supplies." Said Jared, looking over Harry's supply list. "We can visit Cupidatus Alley later. It's the smallest of the four but it has a Quidditch Pitch and a muggle-type cinema. We could have lunch there and then take a trip to Knockturne Alley." Said Jared as they walked further into Diagon Alley.

"What about the fourth alley?" Harry asked.

"The fourth alley is Negotium Alley. It's basically businesses and services down there, like St. Mungo's. There's nothing we'll need down there. There is a fifth alley so to speak. It's not officially one of the Quartus Alleys, however it's been claimed by the prominent purebloods and named Argentum Alley. Every shop down there is extremely expensive, but from what I've heard the quality of the merchandise is unmatched. It's been dubbed Argentum Alley, but it's really a part of Diagon."

Diagon Alley was crowded with people, and there were Aurors on almost every corner. Harry could see a watchtower in one corner, and he doubted it was the only one located around the alleys. The whole of the Quartus Alleys seemed to be surrounded by a fortified wall with Aurors patrolling the top looking down on the alleys. His Godfather certainly run a tight operation.

They passed many shops on their way to Gringott's, and Harry mentally kept a list of everywhere he wanted to visit. They eventually came out onto an open square with several large statues in the centre. Gringotts was on one side, and was heavily guarded with tall walls and several Aurors positioned around it. The centre of the square took Harry's attention though.

There was a large patch of grass with a large obelisk in the centre. The grass was split into four sections, and each section had a small statue on the outside of it; a gryffin, a winged horse, a stag and a phoenix. Harry looked at them for a few moments before turning to follow Jared into Gringotts. The Aurors stopped them at the doors, checking their badges before allowing them to enter.

The hall of Gringotts was just as Harry remembered them. Quickly they made their way towards one of the goblins at the desks. Due to the fact that the wizarding world were completely unaware of the existence of Karthul, they had no idea that the goblins were allied with the city. As soon as the goblin they approached set eyes on Jared, despite the magical disguise, he stood up and motioned for the two to follow him.

"Mr Crawford," Said the goblin, looking at the badge only a second before, "the Solicitors have business with you of a most urgent nature. If you would please follow me?"

Seconds later Harry and Jared were walking through the halls of Gringotts. They were much like the main hall, with practically everything constructed of marble though with much more decoration. The walls were lined with goblin artefacts, and there were glass cabinets placed almost everywhere, each one full of sparkling trinkets. They walked for almost five minutes, with Jared engaging the goblin in conversation whilst Harry brought up the rear, before they reached the room of the solicitors.

The Solicitors were the second highest power within Gringotts, and answered only to Barthul, the last remaining heir of Gringott himself. They were a group of goblins, most of them elderly and all extremely intelligent, who were in charge of the running of Gringotts. Wizards barely ever met with them, usually only in the case of death when the Solicitors were in charge of the will-reading, and only for the most prominent and rich families.

"Good day to you gentlemen." Said Jared, sweeping into the room with Harry behind them and sitting in one of the chairs before the Solicitors. Harry sat next to him, a mask of cold indifference upon his face as he looked onto the faces of the five goblins, each with their eyes fixed on him. Their eyes sent a shiver of discontent across his spine, and he calmly retrieved a small throwing spike from within his robes and twirled it effortlessly between his fingers.

"Lord Karthulus and young Master Karthulus, a pleasure to see you here today. As you were no doubt informed we have much business to attend to, most of which involves the young Master." Spoke the eldest - or what seemed to be the eldest - goblin among the group. With a snap of his fingers a folder appeared, bearing the words _"Potter-Karthulus, Harry James Evans"_. It was thick and most of the parchment within it seemed to be old. The elderly goblin quickly removed several sheets from within it, flicking through them with his long fingers before handing them to Harry.

"The blood-binding ritual has had impact upon the Potter family vaults, and we will need some signatures to continue all protections held over them. Also, as you requested Lord Karthulus, we have here the emancipation papers and inheritance papers. Once young Master Karthulus signs them he will be exempt from any and all age-restricted laws of the Ministry and entitled to all honours and political power that comes as the Potter heir. Such acts would generally require permission from the Wizengamot, however the Solicitors also have the right to decide on emancipation and inheritance as long as all five signatures are on the form. We have already signed them." He said, handing Harry several more sheets of parchment.

"Lastly, with the inheritance you will be entitled to all assets both monetary and physical will be discreetly placed under your name. These documents contain a self-updating list of all Potter assets including all properties, investments and monetary assets to date. According to the figures here you have in your accounts two hundred and seventy five million galleons with an annual revenue from investments at an average of one hundred and thirty thousand galleons a year. A further ten thousand galleons resides in your trust vault, however with your permission we can close that vault and move everything back to the original Potter vault. Nothing in the vault has been touched for thirty years as your father was gifted with his own vault from his father, and used it until his death at which point the contents were added to the original Potter vault.

You own several properties across Britain and a singular house in France. In Britain you own the main Potter residence, a castle on an island to the East of Aberdeen. According to the details provided the castle covers the entire island and is roughly the size of Hogwarts. There are various enchantments and protection spells around it, which allow only those of the Potter bloodline and any they bring with them, to enter. The wards will be made customisable to you as soon as you enter the castle for the first time.

Most of the other properties are small houses, several manors. You do own three shops within the Quartus Alley. One is a building in Knockturne Alley, though it has been empty for years. The second shop is also empty, though it lies within Diagon Alley. The third shop is now Madame Malkin's, though you only own the property. She pays rent to a total of 10 of her annual takings, which last year paid in twenty thousand galleons to your account. We would advise you keep this investment. The shop is popular, and the income received from it makes up a large part of your annual return on investments."

The Goblin ended his speech by pushing several papers towards Harry, as well as a black feather quill with a strangely sharp point and a potion. Harry recognised the quill as a Blood Quill, used only in the wizarding world for signing highly sensitive magical contracts. Owning one without Ministry permission was illegal. The potion would make sure his hand healed fast and did not scar when the words were carved into them.

Taking up the quill and drinking the potion Harry began to sign the documents, watching fascinated each time as his signature was carved into the back of his hand. When he was finished his hand was slightly red, but there was no pain and no scar, and after a few seconds the redness died away.

"Congratulations Master Karthulus. You will find should you decide to go there, portkeys to each of your properties within your vault. My associates have taken the liberty of providing for you a magical pouch that is linked directly to your Gringott's vault. There are several other options available for obtaining money without visiting your vault, however this is the simplest and all other forms of payment include providing the shop with details. We know how much you require secrecy, and this will provide that." He explained, passing Harry a black, silk pouch with a silver drawstring. It looked and felt full of money and looking inside Harry saw it piled with gold. When he lifted a handful out the bag was still full. Satisfied he put it in his pocket and drifted away from the conversation as the Solicitors began to speak to his father.

Ten minutes later they were making their way to the Potter vault

The executive carts within Gringotts, available only to members of prominent families, Ministry officials and the few others who managed to amount a wealth noticeable to the goblins, were much more comfortable than the everyday carts. They moved slower than the regular carts, and were made of highly polished wood with black and gold cushioned sears. Harry and Jared climbed into one of the executive carts along with a goblin under instructions from the Solicitors. The comfortable journey to vault 437 lasted several moments with Harry watching the doors of other vaults speeding past.

Vault 437 was the original Potter family vault. Being that the Potter family were pureblood and one of the highest ranking and respectable families within the wizarding world, vault 437 was extremely high security. The goblin took Harry's key, inserting it into the keyhole before removing a ring of keys from within his it's uniform. A total of seventeen keys were entered into the door before the goblin run his finger gently across the surface of the metal, at which it instantly melted away.

Harry had never been in a Gringotts vault before, so he wasn't sure what a normal vault was like. Vault 437 looked like a large room, filled with chests, cabinets and several other objects piled and placed neatly. There were four doors running from the main room, each with a sign above the doorframe; "money", "library", "documents" and "possessions". A large, black tome in the corner of the main room detailed everything within the vault, and provided extra information about any object when tapped with a wand, or so the goblin claimed. Picking up the tome Harry carefully made his way through the vault.

The first item Harry chose was a trunk as not only did he need one for school, but also it would allow him to carry whatever he wanted out of the vaults. According to the book the inside of the trunk was an exact replica of the Potter vault, which Harry found had a total of nine rooms. Since Harry wouldn't need to keep and documents or money, and very few possessions within the trunk he would be able to customize most of the rooms to his own liking. With a wave of his wand the trunk was levitating in the air, following Harry around as he walked through the rest of the vault.

He emptied the library of all books, and was surprised to find a rare dark arts book there. From his studies he knew that there had never been a recorded Potter who had gone dark, and the book seemed very out of place. There was only one copy of it in Karthul, in the palace library, and although Harry had already read it, it was one of the books he was most excited to take. The rest were what would be expected from an old magical family, ranging from history books to tomes of advanced spells.

Harry went into the documents room only for a few seconds, to collect the portkeys to his different properties. He grabbed the portkey to Blackfire Castle, the main Potter residence that the Solicitor had spoken of. He also lifted the portkeys for his house in France and the small residence he owned in Hogsmead. The portkeys were tiny glass orbs, black in colour and with their location neatly scripted on them in gold. Harry carefully slipped into one of his trouser pockets.

Skipping the money room Harry quickly went through the possessions. The room seemed to be the largest in the entire vault, with another room running off from. The sign above the door read "artefacts", and Harry decided to start there and work his way backwards. The artefacts room had very few items in it, each one sitting on a stone pedestal or within a glass cabinet. There were several items Harry decided to take, including an ornate willow wand. It was carved with hundreds of miniscule runes and had a tiny orb set into each end. Both orbs seemed to be filled with a dark blue, swirling smoke and when Harry touched it the colour seemed to become darker for an instant before settling. A shiver ran up Harry's spine, for there was no doubting the wand had power.

The second item was a ring, which according to the book held several powerful shielding spells that could be activated with a thought from the wearer. It was a simple ring, made of a strange black metal and inset with a single diamond. Harry quickly slipped it on and felt the shielding spells fall under his control as the ring adjusted to fit comfortably on his finger.

The third item he picket up were a pair of bracelets. They were silver and looked very fragile, but according to the book would transmute shape to fit the wearer. The further description of them had intruiged him greatly; according to the book the Vandillian Bracelets, as the small card inside the case they were held in named them, once wrn could not be removed until death. They had last been worn several hundred years ago by one of his ancestors who had, after accidentally killing his fiancé while wearing them, cut off his own hands to be rid of them. Once placed on the armlets themselves would tap directly into the wearer's magical core, allowing them to perform ancient forms of magic. There was a list of ancient magicks that could be performed two of which intruiged Harry greatly. He carefully wrapped them and stored them inside he trunk.

The last item Harry took was a bronze talisman with a silver serpent inlaid into it. The snake was moving in circles around the talisman, and Harry could hear it whispering in soft hisses. He had been aware of his parseltongue ability of years, and was unsurprised that he could vaguely understand the snake's annoyed hissing. Apparently it did not like being touched. Deciding to pursue a conversation with the strange serpent later Harry put the talisman around his neck and let it fall beneath his shirt.

He did not remove much from the main room of possessions. He found a jewellery box of male jewellery belonging to an Edward Potter and a dragonhide wand holster. Both items were quickly placed in the still following trunk before Harry quickly made his way back to the cart where Jared and the goblin were still waiting. His father did not ask him about the contents of the vault, though he commented on the items Harry had removed. He was extremely interested in the wand, and Harry gave his permission for his father to take the object back to Karthul for further study.

* * *

Ten minutes later they set foot back into Diagon Alley.

Consulting the school list Harry mapped out which shops they would have to visit. He would not need to purchase any of the listed equipment, and he had copies of most of the books on the list, though he grimaced at what a mundane level he would supposedly be starting at. The uniform was simple, and they quickly made their way to Madame Malkin's to have Harry fitted. Before they entered he passed his weapons quickly to his father, making sure not to allow the Aurors to see them. It wouldn't do for Madame Malkin to find them as she fitted him.

"Remember, only buy your school uniform in here. You can buy better robes in Argentum Alley when we get there." Said Jared as they walked through the door. Harry was almost instantly ushered up onto a stood near the back of the shop, and was fitted for black robes. He left the shop with five black robes, two hats, three pairs of gloves and two cloaks. There was nothing else on the list Harry needed, and though Jared told him they would buy him a pet for going to Hogwarts they decided to leave it until the end so they wouldn't have to carry it around the alleys.

When they walked into Argentum Alley Harry seen several things in windows that interested him immediately. The first shop, and possibly the largest, was a clothing shop called Monsieur Armande's. The building was made of white stone with the name written in black-outlined gold script. Two large windows showed off several mannequins, each dressed in a different robe. The robes were fashionable, and looked extremely expensive.

When they entered a man, Harry guessed he was Armande, ran up to them with a smile on his face. "'Ogwarts?" He enquired, motioning for Harry to walk up onto one of the raised platforms.

"Yes, but I've already got my school robes." Said Harry as he stepped up. The platform was white and surrounded by mirrors, giving Harry a view of himself in almost all directions.

"From Madame Malkin's?" Questioned the man, almost hissing out the woman's name. He followed this up with several phrases of hissed out French, which Harry was well learned in. He smirked as the tailor talked down Madame Malkin's robes, brining out one of his own.

"Zese robes c'est magnifique." He exclaimed, thrusting them to Harry, who had to admit he was right. They were much lighter than Madame Malkin's robes, and the stitching was impressive. He did not know what they were made of, but the material was like thick silk. Armande brought out four other robes, each one bearing the crest of a Hogwarts house to give Harry an idea of what they would look like after the sorting.

"You are right of course, these are much more suitable. I'll take ten black school robes, three matching cloaks with silver embroidery and three hats and four pairs of gloves. Also, if you wouldn't mind getting rid of these." Said Harry, passing his packages from Madame Malkin's to the man. "I'd also like three pairs of dragonhide gloves and one made from the same material as my robes, again with silver embroidering."

Armande began his work, sending a silver tape measure to Harry with a simple flick of his wand. The tape measure began its work while Armande altered the robes. It was almost an hour later before his purchases were finally finished, and Harry carefully levitated them down into the room inside his trunk.

"Now, I think I'll need some more appropriate clothing for Hogwarts. Could you show me some of your original robe designs?"

Armande lit up at the request, and with a flick of his wand a mannequin appeared. Harry recognised what it was as it began to change, until seconds later he was looking at a mannequin version of himself. Armande left, returning moments later carrying a large pile of robes with two more piles floating behind him.

As a rule Harry kept to darker shades of green, blue and red, though he occasionally branched out into purple, brown and grey. He had no set liking for robe design, and so after immediately dismissing several brightly coloured robes from the pile he allowed Armande to show him his collection.

He came away over twenty from Andre's personal collection, buying hats, cloaks, gloves, belts and shoes to match almost every robe. Armande was in his element as he ran around catering to Harry's needs while Jared sat silently watching in amusement. They left two hours later, after Harry had imparted in addition to nearly a thousand galleons and several custom robe orders to the man, who in turn had promised to owl Harry the finished results when he had completed making them.

They also visited a jewellery shop where Harry picked up several items, including a watch that he could key certain people into and know there whereabouts and situation. He immediately keyed his father in, smiling as the hand bearing his father's name slid to "Shopping". He bought no other magically inclined jewellery, only pieces for aesthetic purposes. He left with five new pairs of earrings, three hairpieces, two rings and three chains. The chains held a claw that the jeweller had told Harry he could have the stone of his choice placed in, but Harry asked for them to be left empty. When they left the shop Harry removed the carefully placed portkeys from his pocket and slipped it into place, using magic to adjust the grip.

He bought his stationary from Argentum Alley, settling on the most expensive parchment, a single bottle of almost every colour of ink (excluding yellow and gold which did not show up well on his parchment), a set of dark green and silver occamy feather quills and a single phoenix feather quill. The last item cost more than the rest of his stationary purchases together, but the quill entranced Harry with its bright colours and warm touch.

They visited the rest of the shops in Argentum Alley, but nothing took Harry's fancy and they quickly made their way to Knockturne Alley. They were stopped at the entrance, and their wands and badges were checked before they were allowed to continue. Jared explained that this check was carried out when entering and leaving all four of the alleys.

Knockturne Alley was dank and miserable. People moved in the shadows and grotesque items stared out from shop windows. Harry strode beside Jared, keeping their heads up as people looked at them striding through. They stopped at a rare book shop, but most of the books considered rare in the wizarding world were in the palace library. Harry picked up a few to add to his personal collection, and the shop owner looked down at him disbelievingly until he forced his eyes to flash cerulean, produced a handful of gold coins, slapping them hard onto the desk while transferring the books into his trunk.

A weapons shop did not offer a lot either, though Harry almost exploded in joy when he found a wallet full of spikes, which according to the card beside them had tips coated in an unidentified poison. The spikes were charmed to remain sharp, and as they were also charmed to be unbreakable they could easily penetrate almost any item. The person behind the till again gave Harry a look, though his was more filled with interest and respect upon Harry's choice. It was clear the man realised Harry was serious about his purchase. After Jared purchased a set of twin daggers they left the shop, nodding to the owner as they did.

Their second last stop in Knockturne Alley was a shop selling familiars. According to the letter, new Hogwarts students were permitted to take a cat, owl or toad. Harry hated rules. He had decided to get a bird, as he still needed to deliver mail to his father, but owls were so common. The shop looked as though it may offer some original alternative, and they entered and immediately approached the person behind the desk.

It was no secret that Knockturne Alley catered for the darker side of Wizards, and it had often been debated that the alley be shut down completely, however it never happened as Knockturne Alley provided necessary things even for light wizards that could not be found in either of the other three. Therefore, it was likely a common request posed to the lady behind the till if they had any illegally bred animals, and she quickly flipped up a trapdoor and beckoned them down.

The room beneath the shop was dark, and filled with cages and tanks. The smell was strange, and not one Harry enjoyed in the slightest. The woman pointed out the birds on Harry's enquiry, and he quickly made his way towards their corner.

Birds of all shapes and sizes, some magnificent and some deformed, were caged along the wall, and Harry instantly spotted the one that he wanted.

It was clearly some crossbreed phoenix, as it had kept the birds anatomy, but Harry could not read the tag underneath that detailed exactly what it was. The phoenix crossbreed was burning with black and silver flames, and its black eyes seemed to bore into Harry as he looked at it. When she pointed it out to the woman she gasped slightly, explaining the creature to Harry.

"The breed has no name, but it is mostly phoenix. When it was still an egg the owner of the shop injected the egg with Dementor's blood he had managed to come by. The egg turned black and extremely cold and he thought the phoenix had just died, but a few days later it burst open and this came out. It's been here almost two months now. Asking price is seven thousand galleons."

Harry instructed the woman to get him all the necessary equipment and food needed to house the bird and while she ran around the upper shop collecting it Harry counted out eight thousand galleons onto the desk. The woman's eyes nearly fell out when she looked at the gold, and she bowed Harry and Jared out of the shop.

The phoenix-dementor crossbreed was staring ahead with seemingly unseeing eyes. Harry tried to get a reaction out of it, but nothing he did seemed to work.

"The phoenix is a rare creature but I know a little of their history. As far as I know you need to create a blood bond between you and it if you want it to be your familiar." Said Jared, passing Harry a dagger. Taking it, Harry rolled up his sleeve and cut into his skin. The cut was not deep, but a few drops of blood fell from his arm, which Harry quickly held over the bird.

The drops of blood that his the creature dissolved into the flames, and just when Harry was about to give up there was a ripple, as the fire seemed to be caught in a high wind. The black eyes of the creature lightened and changed, finally settling on a shade of cerulean blue the exact match of Harry's own when using his elemental powers. Shaking its head the bird rose into the air, looking down at Harry, who in turn was watching it. The bond formed, and Harry felt it settle around his magical core.

"I think I'll call him Kattarin." Said Harry, stroking the bird. He had discovered there really were no flames around the bird, only an ever-moving shadow. As if sensing Harry's investigation of the shadow the bird closed it's eyes and the shadow left, allowing Harry to perfectly see the birds magnificent black plummage. The coldness left with it, and Harry assumed that the shadow worked in the same manner as the effects of the dementor, though obviously with less power.

"Kattarin?" Said Jared ammused, but looking appreciativly at the bird his son was stroking.

"I think it's a perfectly fitting name." Harry said smiling. He drew his wand and quickly glamoured the bird to look like a regular owl; it was an insult in Harry's mind, but it wouldn't do to walk through Diagon Alley, swarming with Aurors as it was, with an illegally bred bird on his arm.

Three minutes later they were leaving the Quartus Alleys. They had decided to skip visiting Cupidatus Alley in exchange for a trip into muggle London. Their badges were removed at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry instructed Kattarin to follow them from the air. Shrinking everything so that it fit in Harry's pocket they left the Leaky Cauldron, only making a quick detour to Harry's house to drop their purchases in. Harry set up Kattarin's things in his room and told the bird to wait at the house for them coming back, removing the glamour before he left.

Harry looked out mostly for clothing shops, as there wasn't much else in the muggle world he would need. As far as he'd read electronics did not work in Hogwarts due to the high levels of magical energy. There was a spell he'd been taught that was often used in Karthul to correct this problem but Harry didn't want to blow his cover completely by knowing something they hadn't yet discovered in the wizarding world.

At the first shop they visited Harry bought three new pairs of trousers; two pairs of black leather trousers and a pair of black combat-style trousers. To go with the combat trousers he picked up a combat vest and a long coat to wear on top. He also picked up several tank tops and long sleeved tops and, at Jared's suggestion, several dress shirts. Dress shirts weren't really Harry's style, he preferred to be the one standing out. He spotted a rack of tank tops that would be perfect for when he was dragged away to be questioned by the Ministry and by Dumbledore, and he grabbed two from the rack and added them to his pile.

The basket was quickly filled with clothes and accessories, most of which you would expect to find on an extremely adventurous muggle clubber. Harry didn't care for the raised eyebrow the shop assistant sent his way when he brought his purchases to the cash desk; he was far from innocent and he liked everyone to know it.

By the time they made it back to Harry's house he had spend over five hundred pounds on clothing and a few things for the house itself. He had bought a red sarong with Chinese characters all over it, much to Jared's confusion until Harry had explained he was planning on sticking it on his wall. When Jared asked why he didn't just buy a poster or wall-hanging Harry just rolled his eyes.

Harry and Jared said goodbye then, because Jared had to return to Karthul. There was little emotion about the affair, as both had been trained not to show such things, but Harry was upset to see his father leave. He had never been without him for more than two months at a time, and only rarely. Harry had also never been allowed to travel much through Karthul by himself, and had rarely had contact with anyone of his own age. The newfound freedom was rather strange.

After unpacking his clothes, setting up the house with his possessions, reading one of his new books and going over his entire inheritance Harry decided he was bored. He was tempted to go out for the night, possibly to a muggle nightclub, but decided just to go to bed instead. The day had been tiring and he had another few weeks of freedom in the muggle world before he would have to board the train that would take him to Hogwarts.

**A/N:** Revised Chapter 4: I'm a sucker for shopping scenes, as anyone who read this has probably noticed. Sorry if it babbled on a bit. Also a note about the last paragraph, when I first posted it many people were completely confused about the Harry going to a nightclub aged 11 thing (and rightly so). I thought I'd better clear that up. Karthul is a lot different from pretty much everywhere else, and "night clubs" there aren't the usual "drink, dance and get merry" places they are here. They're more a place to meet people in different trades and do business, and there is no age limit to enter them because it's not a partying place. Harry has no idea what a night club is but assumes it's the same type of place he's been in many times at home. He'll be very surprised when he finally learns the difference hehe! Anyway, there were a few dditions and corrections in here.

x**E**x


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: Anything related to the Harry Potter series is the legal property of J.K. Rowling. Original Characters are mine and mine alone.

**Summary**: How different would Harry have been had he grown up in a different environment and how will the Wizarding World deal with their "Hero", raised as heir to a city bathed in darkness. Brought up to be feared and respected, tutored in the darkest arts and physical combat, Harry Potter is not the caring, innocent boy Dumbledore had hoped he would become, and he's ready to leave his mark on the Wizarding World. Dark Harry.

**Authors Note**: The story is rated M as it will contain graphic violence and scenes of torture. You have been warned.

**Pairings**: Set during Harry's first year, so none this time around.

**Note**: Oh dear. Ummmmm... well. It's been what, almost three years. Eeeeek. I'm surprisingly not dead, though I'm sure there are people out there who are plotting to kill me. For the first year and a half I did have a reason not for updating (like me having a terminal illness, which I got rid of YAY) but after that I'm afraid it was just me being me; couldnt find the time, every time I tried I couldn't write etc. etc. Anyway, I seem to have gotten a bit of a writing buzz today, plotlines have been coming at me like crazy, so I'm going to try and get as much done today as humanly possible. I really do apologise for my entire lack of... well, anything! I'm working on it and can definitely promise that it will not be too long before my next update (I'll not promise weekly updates because I work like a dog, but I can promise at least one or two a month for definite.)

**_PLEASE NOTE_:**Slight revisions have been made to the first four chapter, most of them only spelling corrections but a few things have been added, changed or taken away so you might want to take a look at the first four again. Sorry about that, but I read over it and was like "Oh dear God, you suck!" The new stuff's not much better, but it's getting there!

**A "Rather Eventful" Sorting**

Harry woke up early the next morning and went downstairs to prepare his own breakfast. Having been trained from an early age Harry had needed to depend on himself a lot. Although the palace had many house elves in its service, there were times Harry's tutors would randomly drug him, take him into the forest on the other side of the island, and leave him there to see how long it would take him to come back. After the first time Harry became increasingly watchful over his food, and after the second time he scanned almost everything that was given to him to eat so they wouldn't catch him out. He didn't know how they continued to do so even after he started scanning his food, but it irritated him to this day.

After a healthy breakfast Harry began to sort through his purchases from the previous day. He levitated his clothes into his walk-in wardrobe to be sorted through later before levitating his trunk and taking it to the hidden vault room. The vault was not very large, with only enough room for about three people to stand in and with most of the walls covered in shelving.

It took over an hour for Harry to sort the trunk with magic, but by the time he had finished he had a fully functional library, a smaller potions lab consisting of all his school potions materials, a bedroom with a walk-in wardrobe, a training room with adjoining weapons storage, a study that connected to the library and a supplies room. The second largest room in the trunk, in place of the main room of the Potter vault, he transformed into a large sitting room until such times as he could think of something else to do with it.

When he finished sorting his trunk and the in-house vault he turned to his wardrobe. He had bought a lot of robes and other wizarding clothes and not a lot of muggle ones. His main reason for this was that all wizarding clothes he owned bore the symbol of Karthul, which his father had ordered him never to show. The muggle clothes he had worn in Karthul did not display the symbol so Harry hadn't needed many muggle clothes, however almost every robe he owned bore the symbol, and so he had had to purchase a whole new wardrobe.

The last few things he looked at were the artifacts he had picked up from the Potter vault. The Vandillian Bracelets intrigued him the most. There were several forms of magic made available to him through them. There were five on the list, only three of which Harry recognised; the other two were probably lost arts, especially if they were unknown even in Karthul. Necromancy was not something Harry was interested in, he had met two in his life, and the sacrifice they had made to themselves for their art, while demanding respect, was too much for Harry to give.

The other two Harry was excited about though. Parselmagic he already knew the basis of, however he had never been able to use it to its fullest potential. The basis for it was much like his elemental powers, accomplished by tapping directly into his magical core and performing it without using a wand. Harry had always needed a wand when using Parselmagic, and the spells were never as strong as they could be. He knew this was probably because he was not a natural Parselmouth, the ability gained no doubt from Voldemort's failed spell. Still, if the bracelets tied directly to his core he wouldn't have to concentrate on trying to drag the Parselmagic from there unnaturally.

The second was Runic Magic. He knew in the Wizarding World it was considered a lost art, but there were several Rune Mages in Karthul though Harry had only ever had contact with one, and had not had a chance to learn the method of magic from him. He knew the basis of it, and knew that he had several books about it in his library; the bracelets would merely remove most of the risk of trying to teach the art to himself.

He knew his Father would not be pleased about him putting on the bracelets without them having been examined first, so Harry had waited till he left before doing so. If his Father had known what they were, and especially of their history, there was no way Harry would have them now.

With a deep breath he slid them onto his wrists.

As soon as the second bracelet was in place both seemed to become liquid, crawling across Harry's skin. They shaped themselves almost like vines from his wrists and across his hands, running up his fingers before taking solid form again. He felt sharp pains that vanished almost instantly everywhere the metal touched, and when it vanished it was almost as though he could feel the metal, as if it were part of him.

They looked more like gloves now, or silver veins all across his wrists, hands and fingers. Several small jewels adorned the thin lines and, turning his hand over, Harry was surprised to see they all connected to a base on his palm that held a large blue crystal, though he had no idea what kind it was. Reading the further description of the bracelets he found no clues to what they might be, though he did discover he could force them back to their original form easily. With a thought and a slight tingling sensation the veins retracted, leaving his hands free with two simple chain bracelets once more adorning his wrists.

He tried conversing with the snake talisman briefly, but it continued to hiss constantly so low that Harry could not make it out. He put it around his neck quietly, determined not to take it off till he had found a way to communicate with the thing.

* * *

The two weeks of freedom flew past quicker than Harry expected, and soon is was the first of September. Much as he had been looking forward to it, Harry hadn't enjoyed the time as much as he would have liked. Having nowhere to go and knowing nobody in the London area, Harry had spent much of his time studying, travelling to the Quartus Alleys for a walk around only once out of sheer boredom. He had already sent twelve owls to his father and several more to his acquaintances in Karthul.

Harry had risen early on the day he was finally to leave for Hogwarts. After a quick breakfast and a shower he had reapplied the glamour on his eyes but had left his hair its natural colour and had chosen a plain muggle outfit consisting of a long-sleeved black top and slightly flared black jeans. He put his waist-length hair in a plait (using magic, of course) and tied the bottom with a small piece of black silk holding a sapphire. The jewel glinted when hit by the light, but was almost invisible unless you were looking directly at it.

Harry had spent the night before gathering his things and loading them into his trunk. Most of his clothes, books, and supplies - including Kattarin's things - were already packed away, and after picking a set of dark blue, green and silver robes from his collection he banished the rest of his wardrobe into the trunk too. He had already decided that the easiest way to get to King's Cross was to travel with his elemental abilities. After ordering Kattarin to come to King's Cross in a half hours time, Harry walked away through the house.

Travelling through water was one of Harry's favorite skills. Using his abilities he could transform himself into water and as long as he came in contact with a small puddle of water he could travel through the element, appearing in any place there was even the smallest amount. Shrinking his trunk and his robes Harry placed both safely into his pocket before filling the sink in the bathroom. Touching a finger to the water he felt the immediate shiver of coldness pass over his entire body before, in a slightly stomach-churning whirl, he was connected to the element.

He could sense everywhere possible for him to come out, and found an opening five minutes from King's Cross Station. Sensing to make sure there was nobody around Harry materialised. The puddle he had come from was in an alley connected to a busy street. Luckily for Harry the alley was empty, and dark enough that activity within it wouldn't be noticed by the people walking past the entrance. He received a few glances as he walked out, and one man even looked down his nose at him (before he mysteriously tripped, knocked over a bin and landed on the ground).

Harry was early to King's Cross, and looking down at his watch realised that he had over an hour before the train was scheduled to depart. Walking calmly through the busy station Harry cast several unnoticeable charms on himself so that the muggles wouldn't notice him before casually walking through the barrier into platform nine and three-quarters. For the second time that day he received a few stares as the very few people on the platform turned to look at him. The majority of the people there were wearing small silver badges that Harry knew signified them as prefects. He also noted the Head Girl standing talking to a group of what appeared to be new prefects, but Harry ignored them all and climbed aboard the train.

He found an empty compartment easily and unshrunk his trunk and his robes as soon as he was in. Donning the robes he quickly fixed his hair before taking a seat. before levitating his trunk onto the compartment above he summoned Hogwarts: A History and set to reading it for the seventh time. He was intent on learning everything he could about the school he had to spend the next seven years attending. He had barely made it to chapter three when Kattarin arrived.

Harry had discovered early on that the cross-breed bore many of the same abilities as the phoenix, including it's original mode of transporting itself from place to place. Whilst the regular phoenix vanished and reappeared in a blast of flames, Harry wasn't sure exactly what it was Kattarin used. It looked to be black fire, but could also be a strange steam. He would disappear in a swirl of the smoky flames, reappearing almost instantly with another blast of it. When he appeared in the compartment Harry immediately summoned the bird's perch from his trunk.

Spending the time before the train left reading, Harry almost didn't notice when people started arriving. His concentration was broken when two children ran past his compartment door, and though he turned back to his book he kept a constant eye on the door to see if anyone would enter his compartment. He was determined to make some friends that would hopefully become close allies. The thought of being alone in unknown territory was slightly intimidating, and his tutors had always warned him to avoid it if possible. He watched as a small, slightly podgy boy glanced in his window. he was about to motion for the boy to join him, but he had run away before Harry had the chance. Ten minutes passed from then, and with only ten more to go before the train departed the door finally slid open.

A girl - clearly a fellow first year - walked in, dragging her trunk behind her. She paused when she saw Harry, clearly having not noticed him before.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know there was anyone in here. I'll--"

"It's ok, you can sit in here if you want." Harry said quickly, adjusting Kattarin's perch so the girl could take a seat. She looked inquisically at the bird for a second before coming to sit down.

"I'm Hermione Granger." She said, thrusting a hand towards Harry.

"I'm Harry."

Hermione didn't seem put out by the lack of a surname as her eyes quickly returned to Kattarin. She turned to Harry, seemingly to ask about the bird, but spotted the closed book in his lap.

"Oh! You're reading Hogwarts: A History. I've read it a few times, when we went to the Quartus Alleys my parents bought me lots of books so I would know everything about wizarding customs when I got here. I'm muggleborn you see, so I have Hogwarts: A History, it's one of the best books I've read so far." She gushed, throwing her trunk open and scrabbling around in it. Her bushy hair was all Harry could see for a few moments before she rose, clutching her own copy of the book.

"I tried to use muggle highlighters on important paragraphs but the book seems to be charmed so the pages don't mark so it didn't work. What year are you in by the way?"

Her question caught Harry off guard, and he quickly told her he was going into first year.

"I hadn't realised, you look like a second year, or a third year at most. Anyway, there are a few things in here I don't quite understand, but according to this the Hogwarts library is almost unmatched so I can research them when I get there. Like the wards, I understand the anti-apparition wards but it keeps mentioning portkeys and I haven't found reference to them anywhere."

"A portkey is a charmed object. It takes you somewhere, a bit like apparition, as long as you're touching it when it activates. They're strictly controlled by the Ministry though, and it takes advanced magic to make one in the first place."

Hermione looked like she wanted to write down what Harry was saying but her eyes were fixed on him as she listened intently.

"I see. You're clever and you know a lot, you're not muggleborn are you? I didn't think you were, you're wearing robes for one thing. Those don't look like school robes though, are you planning on changing?"

When Harry shook his head Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but for some reason didn't.

"Anyway, do you know how we're sorted into houses? I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw would be nice too. My parents have read Hogwarts: A History too, they said I sounded more like a Ravenclaw."

"They use a hat to sort us. It's magic and it looks at your personality and traits and announces what house it thinks you'd fit best in. I don't know about wanting to go into Gryffindor though, I thought I might be there because that's the house my parent's were in but apparently Gryffindor's are very headstrong and rush into things without thinking much."

Hermione looked contemplative for a second, and was about to answer when she looked at the window.

"I hadn't realised we were moving already. I better get my trunk up in the overhead compartment."

Not wanting to reveal his magical prowess quite yet Harry helped Hermione physically lift the heavy trunk up onto the overhead compartment before taking his seat again. They talked about minor things for a few more minutes before the door slid open again and three people walked in.

The boy in the middle had blond, almost white, hair that was slicked back with a sickening amount of gel. The other boys took up position on either side of him and each looked big enough to resemble a small tree.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Drawled the blond in a very condescending manner. "Looks like a mudblood and..."

He gave pause when he looked at Harry, clearly unsure of how to specify him. He looked quite regal in his expensive robes and with his long braid falling onto the seat beside him.

"I suggest," Said Harry calmly, "That you take your pathetic, pureblood values away from here quickly before someone gets hurt."

The boy coloured and the two trees cracked their knuckles in what Harry supposed was meant to be a threatening manner. Harry simply rose to his feet, staring threateningly down at the blond. While he may not have been as tall as his goons, he overshadowed the blond by quite a bit.

"I'm Draco Malfoy." He said, as if pointing out something very obvious. "And you are?"

"I'm Harry."

"You don't have a last name?" Drawled the boy looking bored, but before he could say anything else Harry had let his anger and annoyance take over and he was on the floor outside the compartment. The two goons looked ready to pounce on Harry, but after a glare they followed their fallen leader out of the compartment and shut the door.

"Purebloods." Hissed Harry, throwing his plait to one side.

"I've heard of the views a lot of purebloods hold, they're ridiculous." Said Hermione, clearly angry. She didn't seem phased at being called a mudblood though, and Harry wondered if she knew what it actually meant.

"They're petty. They don't seem to understand that if they continue with their pureblood mantra they'll die out in a few hundred years, possibly less. The percentage of squibs born has risen by three in the past year, with the main cause being inbreeding within the pureblood lines. If we didn't marry into muggle families there wouldn't be a wizarding world, but they can't understand that." Said Harry, sighing in contemplation.

Hermione nodded, and they fell into a discussion on wizarding ethics. They were briefly interrupted a few minutes later by the food cart, from which Harry bought a little of everything and spread it throughout the compartment to share with Hermione. Kattarin ate a pumpkin pastry whole, and Hermione gave him another quizzical look before turning to Harry as if to ask about him.

"What kind of magical creature is your pet, I don't think I've ever read anything about the species before. It looks strangely beautiful with the dark feathers and blue eyes."

Harry thought for a moment before coming up with a half-truth story.

"It's a cross-breed actually. Cross-breeding is illegal but a friend of my father found the egg and gave it to me as a present. He's not dangerous, and we're not sure what breeds were crossed only that one was a phoenix. His name's Kattarin."

Hermions ran her hand over Kattarin's feathers and shivered slightly. Harry felt comfortable when he touched the bird's feathers, but his father had told him that he felt a cold shiver whenever he touched him. They had reasoned that it must be a part of the dementor but that Harry didn't feel it because of the blood bond between himself and the bird.

Kattarin raised his head clearly indicating for Hermione to scratch it, which she did with a giggle. She was taken with the bird, and it quickly flew into her lap and started eating jellied worms she fed him. Harry laughed at the pair.

"Treacherous bird. A jellied worm and you're anyones."

The door slid open and a nervous looking boy poked his head around the door. Harry remembered him vaguely as the same boy who had looked in the compartment window before running away.

"Hi. Come in it's ok." He said, motioning for the boy to enter.

"I just, I was... have you seen a toad?" He asked with his head bowed. He clearly didn't have a lot of confidence and Harry felt a little sorry for him. With a hidden flick of his wand Harry cast a summoning spell and caught the toad as it flew into his hand. Hermione had started a slightly one-sided conversation with the boy, so neither of them noticed.

"Is this him. He was resting under my chair." Said Harry, holding up the animal. It made a loud sound in protest, but the boy quickly took it from Harry, offering many thanks.

"I'm Neville Longbottom." He said quietly. Once again introductions were traded, and Neville looked at Harry slightly confused when he offered no surname, but shrugged it off. The three talked for a while about different things before the announcement was made that they would soon be reaching Hogwarts. Neville and Hermione left to change while Harry packed his things away. He asked Kattarin to fly above the castle and join him in his common room after he had been sorted and finished whatever mattered were likely to crop up afterwards. When Neville and Hermione returned, each wearing a plain black Hogwarts robe, they packed their things away quickly.

When the train came to a halt they got off, following the crowd of other first year students clamouring their way towards a woman holding a lamp.

"First years this way please. Any more first years?"

She looked to be around forty with brownish-grey hair pulled into a tight bun and wearing long robes in a strange burnt green colour. When the other students had moved away and all the first years had gathered she nodded and turned away.

"Follow me please." She said, walking briskly away. After a few moments of following her they came to a lake lined with small boats with no oars or other means of moving them. Harry guessed they run on magic and following the woman's example climbed into one.

"No more than four people in the one boat, and please keep arms and legs inside. I don't want anyone falling overboard." She said, watching to make sure they all got in safely. Harry shared a boat with Hermione, Neville and a blond girl. They didn't talk and after a few minutes the woman shouted and the boats left the side of the lake.

Watching as they rounded a corner Harry caught his first glance of Hogwarts and was more impressed than he thought he would be.

Framed against the moonlit sky Hogwarts stood miles high with hundreds of windows lit by candlelight. The pictures he had seen did the place no justice, and Harry noticed everyone was giving the place an awed look. Having been trained Harry kept a mask of indifference plastered on his face, but he was truly impressed by the ancient castle.

"When we land you will follow me up the steps and to the main doors of Hogwarts, where you will be collected by Professor McGonagall and taken to be sorted. I want no carry on as we climb the steps, they are high and dangerous and anyone seen pushing will be in serious trouble."

Harry frowned at the stern woman, but followed her when they landed. Walking up to the doors of Hogwarts he realised they weren't as large as the main doors to the Outer Tower of Karthul, nor were they as ornate. The woman rapped on the door several times before they swung open, revealing a slightly older woman.

"Thank you Professor Kendrel, I'll take them from here." She said, and Professor Kendrel nodded, walking past the woman Harry assumed to be Professor McGonagall and through a pair of large, ornate doors off the entrance hall. Harry could hear clamour and talk coming from within the room she had entered and guessed it was the main hall.

His stomach was full of butterflies as he awaited his resurrection. He was hoping to shock someone into fainting, but he doubted it would happen. He wondered briefly if anyone would try to curse him; he was more than prepared to retaliate should they try. Under his robes he wore two daggers, one strapped on each hip as well as several throwing knives hidden on his robes.

"Follow me please. I am Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress. In a few moments you will be sorted into your houses. When you are sorted please take a seat at the appropriate table and await the end of the ceremony. After the sorting you will be led to your common room and your head of house will explain some of the more detailed things you will need to know. Now, follow me please."

They walked in an almost neat line into the Great Hall behind McGonagall and Harry was again aware of the inquisitive glances thrown in his direction. He looked at the still sealed scroll McGonagall clutched, smiling as he confirmed they were still unaware that he was alive and attending. At the end of the hall, in front of the staff table, they gathered around the stool and the hat placed upon it.

After a few moments of silence the brim of the hat opened like a mouth and a voice suddenly filled the air as the hat burst into song.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindor apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

As the hat finished its song the hall burst into applause. The hat gave a small bow to the four house tables before becoming still again and the hall once again fell into silence.

"When I call your name you will try on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Said McGonagall, breaking the wax seal on the scroll and unrolling it.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

The blond girl who had shared a boat with Harry climbed up to the stool and tried on the hat. Her face was tinged pink as every eye in the hall rested on her, but she was only there for a few moments before the brim of the hat opened again.

"Hufflepuff!" It shouted, and the table on the right burst into cheers as Hannah placed the hat back on the stool and ran to join them.

"Bones, Susan!"

Harry looked at the Bones girl. Her family were very prominent within the wizarding world, but most had been killed off by Voldemrot. Amelia Bones was no doubt a relation, and she held a high position within the Ministry of Magic.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted again, and Susan ran to join the cheering table.

"Boot, Terry!"

A Black haired boy climbed onto the stool, putting the hat over his head. It rested there only for a moment before announcing the boy a Ravenclaw, at which the table second from the left erupted in cheers. Blushing slightly, Terry ran towards it and took his seat.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" joined Terry Boot at the Ravenclaw table, and following her "Brown, Lavendar" became the first new Gryffindor causing the table on the far left to erupt in cheers. "Bulstrode, Millicent" joined the Slytherin table. She had short, dark hair that framed her face and looked quite nasty, but then so did most people at the Slytherin table. "Corner, Michael", a dark haired boy, joined the Ravenclaw table after a few moments under the hat.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin" went to Hufflepuff, followed by "Goldstein, Anthony" who went to Ravenclaw and then Hermione was called.

Harry gave the girl a warm smile as she walked from beside him and onto the stage. She looked at him as she dropped the hat over her head. It seemed to be considering her for a moment before finally the brim opened.

"Ravenclaw!" It shouted, and the Ravenclaw table once again burst into applause. Smiling and throwing a glance towards Harry, Hermione ran towards her table, taking a seat next to Mandy Brocklehurst. After Hermione came "Greengrass, Daphne" who went to Hufflepuff.

Harry watched McGonagall turn back to the parchment, watched her face turn white as a sheet and knew that it was finally his turn.

For a few moments McGonagall looked at the parchment, muttering under her breath with wide eyes. Her shock did not go unnoticed by the rest of the students as whispers broke out in the hall. A few moments later McGonagall practically ran to Dumbledore.

She thrust the list at him, and after a quick look Dumbledore's eyes snapped up as he looked at the group of first years remaining. With a nod to McGonagall he handed her the list and she walked, rather shakily, back into position beside the hat.

"Potter-Karthulus, Harry." She said in a shaky voice, but the words were carried across the hall and chaos ensued as everyone burst out with questions.

"As in _the_ Harry Potter?"

"Isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"It can't be Harry Potter!"

"What's going on?"

Harry stood, waiting for the noise to die down. After a moment Dumbledore stood, shooting off sparks from his wand. Silence returned to the hall as Dumbledore took his seat, nodding again to McGonagall.

"Potter-Karthulus, Harry." She said again, scanning the first years. Harry noticed every eye in the hall focused upon the group, and with an over-exaggerated sweep of his cloak he strode forwards, smirking lightly at McGonagall before dropping onto the seat. Adjusting his plait he looked amusedly over the stunned students before dumping the hat upon his head.

As soon as it made contact he felt the hat use legillimacy and counter-attacked.

Harry had been working on a method of controlling that hat since a week before he left for Hogwarts. Using legillimacy to cast spells was difficult, but not impossible, and Harry quickly threw up his occlumency shield whilst attacking the hat with a mixture of legillimacy, an imperius curse and a confundus charm.

When he was sure he had control of the hat he looked through its memories, storing what information he needed. He was surprised to find the hat still had the memories of the Founders, and smirked as he came upon the memories of the Chamber of Secrets. There was no doubt that Basilisk would still be alive even after so many years.

After draining all knowledge he could from the hat, Harry implanted the idea that it wanted to place him in Ravenclaw before removing the memories of his attack and withdrawing from its mind. After a few second in which Harry fed the hat emotions and traits he felt the brim open.

"Ravenclaw!"

There were no applause, only an ear-splitting silence. Completely unperturbed Harry lifted the hat off his head and placed it gently down on the stool before sweeping away, his robes billowing out behind him. They made a lot of noise in the silent hall, and Harry smirked. Finally someone at the Ravenclaw table began to clap politely, leading to a loud cheer.

Taking a seat next to Michael Corner, directly across from Hermione, who was looking at him slightly awed but with a glint of humour in her eyes, Harry turned to watch the Sorting. It took ten minutes for McGonagall to continue reading the names on her list, in which time Harry took an oppurtunity to examine the staff members.

Only two were not looking at him in shock; Albus Dumbledore and a greasy-haired, heavily scarred man who was glaring at him. Using his abilities he read the man's aura, quite shocked to find that Dumbledore had hired a man bearing the Dark Mark. Then again, considering the heavy scars that trailed across his face and the fact that Dumbledore was smarter than that, the man probably was - or rather had been - a spy for Dumbledore.

Next to the ex-Death Eater was a dark haired man looking in awe at Harry and next to him a small, dumpy woman in earthen-green robes. Before Harry could continue his observation McGonagall continued.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

After a few moments the hat announced Neville a Gryffindor and he placed the hat down and walked, slight shyly, to their table. The sorting continued, with Morag McDougal, Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin joining them at the Ravenclaw table. It ended as "Zabini, Blaise" became a Slytherin and took a seat next to Malfoy. The blond boy glared at Harry, his grey eyes seemingly trying to burn holes through him. In a moment of irritation Harry allowed the glamour to slip from his eyes for a few seconds. Seeing Harry's pupils extend to a cat-like shape, Malfoy fell off his seat to the humour of everyone but the Slytherins. Harry was certain nobody else had noticed his eyes, and smirked at the look of shock on Malfoy's face.

Several clinks sounded, and Harry turned to look at the head table as Dumbledore stood.

"Well, tonight has been rather eventful I must say." He spoke merrily as every eye in the hall turned to look at Harry. "Now, I won't keep you long I have though, a few notices to deliver. Firstly, as the name suggests, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. Anyone caught entering the forest will be severely punished as the risk is too high to even dare. Secondly, anyone found wandering the halls after curfew will be taken to their Head of House. Make no mistake, we are living in dangerous times. The school is safe from Lord Voldemort at present, but we must all be aware that precautions are necessary to ensure our safety." Dumbledore paused again, pulling McGonagall's sorting list towards him.

"Lastly, Mr. Karthulus if you would please wait after the feast has ended there is much we have to discuss. Now, without further ado, tuck it." He shouted, clapping his hands as dishes of food appeared in front of everyone. People dived at the food, but Hermione was too busy looking at Harry.

"You never told me your last name on purpose, you wanted to cause a scene, didn't you?" She said and Harry smirked.

"Maybe just a little scene. They would have known if they had bothered to check the list, I bear no fault in this." He said, lifting his hands up to the amusement of much of the table. Soon Harry was locked in a conversation with Michael Corner, Padma Patil and Hermione as they discussed what they would be learning in the first year.

"I've heard we start out slow." Said, Michael, taking a drink of pumpkin juice. "My cousin's in Hufflepuff and he said we start with simple things, like levitating things in charms and changing matches into needles in transfiguration."

"How thrilling." Said Harry, running his finger around the rim of his goblet.

"Potions is bound to be the worst." Said Padma, looking over her shoulder towards the staff table. "I've heard Professor Snape is horrible to everyone and in a constant bad mood. He doesn't look very nice."

"I can't wait for lessons to start though. I really want to see the library too, I've read that its amazing in Hogwarts: A History but there were no pictures to go by." Said Hermione, a sheen in her eye as she talked about the library. Michael and Harry both gave her slightly exasperated looks and smiled at each other.

When everyone started to stand Harry looked at Dumbledore, who nodded in a way that clearly meant he was to wait.

**A/N:** Chapter 5: Well, I mean, you only waited three years for it. I'd really like to thank all my reviewers (although I can't do individual replies this time around because... well it's been three years and there are quite a few!) Obviously the Sorting song is not mine, I'm very bad at rhyming. Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait. Next time: The big discussion between Dumbledore and Harry. Get ready for a showdown.

x**E**x


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: Anything related to the Harry Potter series is the legal property of J.K. Rowling. Original Characters are mine and mine alone.

**Summary**: How different would Harry have been had he grown up in a different environment and how will the Wizarding World deal with their "Hero", raised as heir to a city bathed in darkness. Brought up to be feared and respected, tutored in the darkest arts and physical combat, Harry Potter is not the caring, innocent boy Dumbledore had hoped he would become, and he's ready to leave his mark on the Wizarding World. Dark Harry.

**Authors Note**: The story is rated M as it will contain graphic violence and scenes of torture. You have been warned.

**Pairings**: Set during Harry's first year, so none this time around.

**Note**: Chapter 6; I tried to get it up as quickly as possible after Chapter 5 to make up for the three year wait. Harry vs Dumbledore: Round 1, and some surprised visitors to Hogwarts cause quite a ruckus! Enjoy.

**PLEASE NOTE:**Slight revisions have been made to the first four chapters, most of them only spelling corrections but a few things have been added, changed or taken away so you might want to take a look at the first four again. Sorry about that, but I read over it and was like "Oh dear God, you suck!" The new stuff's not much better, but it's getting there!

**Battles of Minds and Fists**

The Great Hall descended into silence as the last of the students exited, most of them casting glances at Harry still sitting at the Ravenclaw table, his eyes fixed upon the Headmaster. The majority of the staff also remained; only Professor Snape had marched out, purposely not looking at Harry as he strode past with a look on his face that could probably kill.

Dumbledore had a muttered conversation with Professor McGonagall before dismissing the rest of the teachers. As they neared the door Dumbledore rose.

"Professor Flitwick, if you could wait in the entrance hall for Harry and show him to his dormitory afterwards please? This shall hopefully not take long."

A very small man with grey hair looked back at Dumbledore and nodded before following the other teachers through the main doors, looking back at Harry before he left. The grand door closed behind him with a bang and the hall fell into silence.

Dumbledore's footsteps as he approached Harry echoed in the silence, and he removed his wand quietly casting what Harry recognised to be some very advanced privacy wards across the hall as he walked. He placed his wand calmly back into his robes as he drew near before taking Hermione's now empty place at the Ravenclaw table.

Were the situation not so serious Harry might have laughed; the aged Headmaster looked thoroughly ridiculous sitting at the much lower table. He maintained his mask though, allowing no emotion to slip past.

Harry had known this would happen as soon as he returned. Jared had told him as much as he knew about Albus Dumbledore, supposed leader of the Light. He had to be very careful not to give away anything; the man might try something underhanded to find out where Harry had been the past ten years, and if Harry let slip any information of Karthul they were in trouble. Worse yet, if the old man realised exactly how powerful Harry was there would be many more questions raised.

"So," Dumbledore spoke finally, his voice quiet. "I assume you know why you were treated with shock tonight? Forgive me, but you seemed less than surprised by the situation."

Harry thought his words over carefully.

"Yes, I know why Professor. My adoptive family informed me of my station in the Wizarding World. I have known since an early age eactly who I am and of the Wizarding World despite not being brought up here."

Dumbledore nodded, threading his fingers together as he looked at Harry.

"You were not raised by muggles then, but in the Muggle world then?"

"I was not raised in the Wizarding world, but yes, my adoptive family are not Muggle."

Dumbledore nodded, and for a moment Harry felt a slight prod against his mental shields. Rage boiled in him as Dumbledore tried to use legillimacy on him, but the old man withdrew after only a moment, no doubt surprised by the boy's shields though neither of them made any sign of what had occurred.

"You do not have the scar?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes trailing Harry's forehead. The blemish was practically invisible, especially in the pale light of the Great Hall.

"My Father had it healed when I was five. It started hurting so he thought it best to be rid of it; it took quite a lot of work, the thing didn't seem to want to disappear."

Dumbledore smiled grimly as he whispered "No, I presume it would not have."

"You were searched for." He continued. "Our world as a whole searched and yet nobody could find anything. Perhaps you could tell me where you were these past years Harry, and of your adoptive family?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that Professor. I'm well aware of my position in this world; if people knew exactly where I was and who brought me up I would never be left in peace. As things stand I am clearly safe, therefore I see no reason to divulge anything as far as my private affairs are concerned."

Dumbledore sighed wearily, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"That won't be possible I'm afraid Harry," He said, leaning forward. "You are far too important to this world for these things to remain a secret. The Ministry of Magic will demand answers; proof of your identity and information on everything that has happened in the past ten years. There may be repercussions for the actions of your adoptive family for removing you from your carers. I can help you Harry, but only if you can tell me everything."

Harry was annoyed by the overbearing presence of the man. It was clear he was desperate for answers, trying to make it seem that it would be in Harry's best interest to reveal them. He had felt several more sharp prods against his legillimacy barriers, retracting almost immeditely after, and though he showed no outward sign that he had noticed what the Headmaster was doing he had to grip the bench he was sitting on to keep from cursing the old man.

Standing from his seat he fixed Dumbledore with a calm look.

"I'm afraid it won't be possible Headmaster, however important you might deem me to this world. What happened to me is for me to know, and though it may be revealed in time it will not be now. Let the Ministry come and ask, they have no right to know either. Besides, why does it matter that I never went to the Dursley's? They were never supposed to raise me anyway, according to my parents."

Dumbledore's calm look faltered for a moment, a sign of frustration washing over his face. He didn't seem to want to let his grandfatherly persona fall, but Harry was being deliberately secretive and he could tell it was driving the man mad.

"If that's all Professor, I'm rather tired. Besides, Professor Flitwick is waiting for me and I shouldn't keep him out there all night. Good evening Professor."

Harry calmly removed himself from the table completely. Dumbledore said something very quietly but Harry missed it and decided not to ask him to repeat himself. Without a backward glance he made his way toward the door, stopping only moments later when he felt a final sharp pain in his head.

Dumbledore had given up prodding his mental barriers. The old man was throwing everything he had at them, trying to break through.

Harry saw red in an instant. How dare he try to violate his mind like that? Using legillimacy against another person was illegal in the Wizarding World as far as Harry was aware. To break into someone else's mind, steal their thoughts and memories; it was low. Harry quickly put everything he had into maintaining his shields and preventing the man's attack.

Dumbledore was focussing on a single point of his shield, throwing his entire mind behind creating a hole rather than searching the walls for weaknesses as was a more common mode of attack. Harry had a plan, but it was risky; carrying it out would leave the rest of his mind unprotected to the man's attack should he change position, should he decide to change the focus of his entry. Harry was sure he wouldn't though. He seemed over-confident that he could break through Harry's protections.

Focusing, he quickly withdrew all defences over his mind other than from the area Dumbledore was attacking, leaving only a small part of the wall intact. With his shields down he had to hurry before Dumbledore realised what he was doing and took advantage, because it would take Harry time to reraise his shields.

Concentrating on the power he always kept available for his shields, most of it now unused, he began to feed it directly into the point of Dumbledore's intrusion. The power came fast and thick, and within moments had begun to overwhelm the old man's. Harry could tell he was surprised.

Dumbledore began to feed more power into his attack, and Harry realised the man had been holding back; if the headmaster put much more power into it Harry wouldn't stand a chance, the man was far too well versed in this branch of magic, much more so than Harry.

He slammed his gathered power quickly into Dumbledore's attack before the man could overcome him. Dumbledore was ejected finally but Harry didn't stop there. With a final large push he struck back, violently slamming Dumbledore out of his head completely and forcibly back into his own.

The man cried out slightly, drawing back as though smacked as Harry slammed him back and withdrew. When he drew his head forward again his eyes were bloodshot and a small trickle of blood ran from one nostril. Harry took his opportunity to build up his mental shields again, desperately trying to his his exhaustion as he strode towards Dumbledore.

"You listen to me Dumbledore! I don't know what the usual protocol is for this sort of situation but iI know enough to know what you just did was illegal!" Harry shouted. He was beyond angry now, sure that if he hadn't put so much magic into throwing back Dumbledore's attack things around him would probably be breaking right now.

Harry drew closer, getting inches from Dumbledore's face as he snarled.

"I have no personal feelings toward you at all really headmaster, but I had heard you were a brilliant wizard with a history that demanded respect. I would, but what you just did... if you ever think of doing something like that again I swear on my life and magic I'll disappear again, and when I come back I'll be the end of you!"

Dumbledore's pale face looked back at him, and though he was still slightly dazed he seemed to take in Harry's words. He still seemed ready to protest but Harry was already striding away, and anything he did say Harry ignored in favour of listening to his own head scream about what had just occurred.

* * *

Professor Flitwick had lead Harry through corridors that were now slightly familiar to him; the information he had drained from the Sorting Hat had been incredible if somewhat fuzzy. I would still take Harry time to ma out the entire of Hogwarts castle, as it seemed things had changed slightly from the time of the Founders' creation of the Sorting Hat, however he would pick it up quicker than anyone else.

He recognised the location of the Ravenclaw common room, though he barely listened to the riddle the eagle-shaped knocker provided or the answer Professor Flitwick gave; he knew there was a much easier way of obtaining entrance but he wasn't about to share it.

The common room was empty, though the fire still burned warmly and the stars shone both from the ceiling and the enormous windows in the room. Professor Flitwick gave Harry a quick explanation about his dormitory before bidding him a good night.

With silence Harry climbed the stairs toward his dormitory, pausing for a second to glance at the large, white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in the common room. When he entered the room his housemates were already in bed, and Harry silently thanked the universe that he wouldn't have to put up with any questions tonight. He was sure the next morning would be hell though.

With a wave of his wand - too exhausted after his spat with the headmaster - Harry changed his clothes and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Harry was awake before any of his dorm-mates the next morning, and winced as he sat up. His head was throbbing, no doubt from the events of the previous night. Dumbledore no doubt felt much the same; he may have been more advanced in Occlumency and Legillimacy than Harry was, but the boy had caught him unprepared the night before.

The fact that Dumbledore could conceivably break through the barriers surrounding his mind worried him, and he quickly wrote a letter to his Father and summoned Kattalin to deliver it, asking for anything that might stop him. Harry doubted Dumbledore would try anything very soon. He was counting on the fact that Dumbledore wouldn't realise just yet that the power he had used to slam the old man from his mind was almost everything he had at his disposal. He was sure the man wouldn't give up after only one failed attempt though.

Changing quickly and quietly so as not to wake anyone Harry stole from the common room and made his way carefully back to the Great Hall. He managed not to get lost, much to his joy.

There were very few people there already, though Harry noticed all the teachers were. They were huddled in a group in front of there table, the Headmaster deep in hushed conversation with two men. A few of the people in the hall were shooting the group wondering looks, looks that turned to Harry when they noticed him make his way to the Ravenclaw table.

"Morning Hermione." He said pleasently, reaching to fill his plate.

The girl, who uncharacteristically had her head stuck in a book, almost fell off her chair in shock.

"Harry!" She almost squealed, causing near everyone there to turn in their direction. "You almost gave me a heart attack. I didn't expect anyone to be up this early, but I couldn't wait! We get our schedules today, and classes, and do you think..."

Whatever Hermione was about to say was cut off as Harry was grabbed roughly by the shoulder, lifted off the chair and spun round to face one of the men Dumbledore had been in conversation with. His fingers were stroking one of the spikes he kept strapped to his stomach, and Harry had to squash down the immediate instinct to strike back.

"Sirius, please let us take this to my office." Dumbledore said, walking up behind the man who had grabbed Harry so roughly. Dumbledore was accompanied by another man, greying blond hair and eyes that fixed on Harry as though trying to search his soul.

So this was Sirius Black and the lycanthrope Lupin.

His Godfather was staring at him and there was fury in his eyes. His black hair seemed to have gone rather wild, as though he'd run his hands through it many times and knocked it completely out of place. With an inward sigh Harry turned to him emotionless.

"You're hurting me." He said, flexing his shoulders against the large fingers that gripped them. It wasn't too painful in truth, he had felt infinitely more painful things during his life, but the man already annoyed him. This was quite a greeting he'd prepared for his long-lost Godson.

"Who are you?" He finally said, his voice a deadly whisper that Harry was sure would have chilled many. He looked back impassive though, appearing bored already.

"Harry Potter-Karthulus. And you would be Sirius Black, the Minister of Magic I assume. _Quite_ a greeting; I had expected a hug from my Godfather, but _apparently_traditional welcomes are looked down upon at Hogwarts." He said, glaring over the man's shoulder at Dumbledore as he said the last words. The man had the grace to look ashamed.

Sirius Black growled low in his throat, and Harry had to wonder if Remus Lupin had mistakenly infected him.

Seconds later the man had drawn back his fist and punched Harry square in the face.

The palpable silence of the Great Hall was broken by a scream from Hermione, shouts from several of the teachers and a stunning spell from Remus Lupin.

Harry's head was spinning; the attack had come unexpectedly. He had slight memories of Sirius Black; fuzzy images and sounds from his younger years recovered from mediation and Occlumency practice. The man standing there screaming at Lupin was nothing like he expected.

"HE'S NOT HARRY, REMUS! HARRY POTTER WOULD NEVER ACT LIKE THAT, DID YOU HEAR THE WAY HE TALKED? SNAPE GET ME SOME BLOODY VERITASERUM! I WILL NOT HAVE SOME STUCK-UP FAME SEEKER IMMITATING MY GODSON SO HELP ME I'LL..."

"You'll do what?" Harry said icily, rising from the table where he had fallen. Hermione was at his side, though he hadn't noticed her move, as was Dumbledore. Harry ignored them both, rising fluidly. Black looked like he wanted to hit him again, but Lupin was holding him back.

"What do you know of how Harry Potter would act or talk? I was what, a year old when you last seen me, _Padfoot_? He said, hissing the name out as though it were fire on his lips. Black and Lupin both paled considerably

Harry raised his hand and wiped a small trickle of blood from his mouth; the punch had connected on his cheek but he had hit the table hard and apparently burst his lip. He didn't notice the pain but he almost let out a laugh at his hand.

"The Minister of Magic assaulting a first year. I'm sure the papers will have a field day. But if that's how it's to be, then I guess you should really fetch the Veritaserum. Can I have breakfast while I wait, or would you like to hit me some more?"

Without waiting for an answer Harry spun on the sot and returned to his seat. The glass that had broken had repaired itself and he quickly continued filling his plate. Hermione sat beside him, whispering questions ferociously to him to make sure he was alright. He smiled at her slightly and nodded but continued in silence; he had noticed the look on Dumbledore's face the moment he'd agreed to take the truth potion. He would have to work this carefully.

It took twenty minutes for Severus Snape to return with the potion, which Sirius immediately snatched though some of his fight seemed to have died. Harry looked at him across the table where he now stood, still glaring down at him and gripping the potion phial so hard Harry was sure it must be charmed unbreakable.

"Would you like to test it or shall we just get on with it?" He said, watching the small gathering of teachers that had made their way to surround him. The Great Hall was slowly filling up with students, all of them looking in confusion at the events playing out at the Ravenclaw table. Whispers passed back and forth and the story of what was happening seemed to be told to everyone who entered. They were all trying to get as close as possible without being obvious about their interest.

Sirius decided not to test it as he shoved the bottle toward Harry, who uncorked it silently. Three drops would be enough to force the potion to take effect, but Harry wanted no dount left in their mind. Stronger doses of the potion only made it last longer, with no ill effects, so he gulped down half the bottle before passing it back to Sirius.

As it began to take effect his mind went into overdrive. He could not lie under the potion, such was its effect, but he did not have to tell the whole truth either. He had been trained under Veritaserum many times, and although he was not a master of it, he thought he could get away with giving as little away as possible.

When the questions were asked under the potion he would have only a second to consider them and produce an answer before one was given unwillingly. Steeling himself he waited.

He was checked by Dumbledore, Snape and Lupin in turn to see that the potion was working before Sirius came forward.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked roughly, his eyes burning still.

"Harry James Evans Potter-Karthulus." Harry answered in monotone. "I was born Harry James Potter, the Evans name from my Mother's side that is rarely used. I took the name Karthulus when I was adopted."

Sirius' face became paler and he stuttered a few times. Harry watched him look to Lupin, and he sunndenly looked very small. Lupin stepped forward to place a hand on Sirius' shoulder before turning his attention to Harry.

"Harry, who took you from the Dursley's when you were a child?" He asked softly. Harry could tell the man was a lot more grounded than his Godfather; his memories of Lupin were fewer but he thought he might like the lycathrope.

"My Father." Was his respose, delivered again in monotone.

"And who is your Father?" Lupin asked lightly.

"James Potter." Harry said. He watched the faces around him change; Dumbledore and Snape knew what was happening, and he was sure Lupin did too. Snape looked shocked beyond words and Lupin's eyes seemed to have frozen. Dumbledore though did not look surprised. Sirius was just looking at him confused.

"Who is your adoptive Father?" Lupin asked, slightly harder this time.

"The man who took me away from the Dursley's." Harry answered truthfully. People around them were starting to whisper.

Lupin straightened up and looked toward Dumbledore, who nodded at him silently. He could hear Snape whispering about impossibilities, but he kept his eyes fixed ahead.

"What's going on?" Sirius suddenly shouted. "You're all acting like there's something wrong, just finish questioning him before it wears off."

Lupin look at him, and put his hand on Sirius' shoulder again.

"Sirius you heard his answers. I don't think we're going to get much more information from him; he's been trained against revealing information while under the effect of Veritaserum."

The statemet sent shocked whispers through the gathered crowd, and Harry felt Hermione's hand grip his own sightly tighter; he hadn't even noticed she'd taken it.

Sirius wasn't about to be beaten though.

"What is the name of you adoptive father?" He said, his eyes burning again.

"Jared Karthulus." Harry answered. There was no point in trying to avoid that one; it was a direct question with a direct answer, but they wouldn't know the name anyway so Harry didn't worry on it anymore as he prepared for the next question.

"Where did he raise you?"

"In his home." Harry said. If he could smirk at their faces he would, but the potion wouldn't allow it.

"Where is his home?" Sirius almost shouted. Nobody was trying to calm him anymore, they all had their eyes fixed on Harry.

"Sector 8."

The answer inspired many confused looks, and Harry wished he could laugh.

"Where is Sector 8!?" Sirius was screaming now. He was getting angrier by the second, and Harry thought he looked ready to cry.

"Sector 8 is above Sector 7." He answered monotonously. Several people let out disappointed sighs, sure Sirius had got him that time. Sirius smashed his fist into the Ravenclaw table in frustration.

"Were you raised in the Muggle World?" He asked, quieter this time.

"No."

Sirius' head snapped up; he had clearly been expecting Harry to say yes. They had searched, but the Muggle World was a mystery to most Wizards. It was the only place they would expect him to be, and if he wasn't there they must assume he had been right under their noses the entire time.

"You were raised in the Wizarding World?" Sirius asked. His voice was on the verge of breaking now.

"No."

Confusion once again swept the hall. Remus looked to Dumbledore again, who only shrugged. It was Snape who spoke next.

"Potter must be stupid, just like his Father. If you weren't raised in one you were raised in the other, which was it?"

"Neither."

"It's impossible to be raised nowhere Potter, how can you be raised outside both worlds?" Snape snarled, standing beside Remus now and glaring down at the boy as though he would like nothin more than to curse him into oblivion.

"Your viewpoint is limited."

Several people laughed as Snape turned an impressive shade of puce. He had just been insulted by a first year under the effects of Veritaserum.

"How is our viewpoint limited?" Remus said softly before Snape could curse Harry.

"You see this world divided in two. Just because you do not see more does not mean more do not exist." Harry said. He was giving slightly more away than he had originally intended, but their questions were becoming harder to answer while steering from the truth.

"And you were raised outside the two we see?" Remus asked again as silence descended.

"Yes."

"What country were you raised in?" Lupin asked. Once again the answer was waited for with silence.

"None." Harry said; that one had been easy. Although Karthulus was a nation the island it was built upon belonged to nobody; Karthulus had not claimed it as it would only increase the risk of exposure, and since the island was completely hidden by magic nobody else had claimed it either.

The Veritaserum was beginning to ware off, he could sense. Apparently the same was obvious because Snape informed Lupin, to which the older man nodded.

"Where can we find Jared Karthulus?" He asked, and Sirius bore his eyes into Harry, gripping his wand so tight his knuckles were almost glowing white; Harry had not noticed him remove it from wherever it was stored, but he was sure that if his Father had been there now Sirius Black would have done everything in his power to curse him.

"You can't." He answered.

"Can you take us to him?" Lupin asked, his voice sounding as though he were starting to lose hope.

"No." The wards around Karthul would not allow those not keyed in to them to enter, and Harry did not posses that kind of power over the wards. As far as he was aware Jared was in Karthul, and therefore he could, in all honesty, take them to him.

The effects of the Veritaserum were almost completely gone now, but Sirius looked up as though a question had sprung to mind, and Harry - as well as the rest of the hall if the intake of breath was anything to go by - were shocked by it.

"Are you or Jared Karthulus associated in any way with Voldemort or his followers?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly, even through the potion. They actually thought he was a Death Eater?

"My Father collects information about him but is associated with him in no other way." Harry said simply, and many people let a breath out as though relieved. "I am connected to Voldemort by the curse that failed, and prophecised to kill him or be killed by him by the prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney."

The room froze.

Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and Black were looking at them as though he were an alien. The rest of the room were varying between different states of shock and disbelief.

"How did you know about that?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Harry smiled slightly. The potion had worn off and he had managed not to give too much away; they knew his Father's name, which was a minor irritation but nothing to be worried over. Also, the prophecy he had wanted in the open; he needed to get a message to Voldemort somehow, announcing that he was going to try and kill him to the entire of Hogwarts seemed like as good a way as any.

"The prophecy was made about me, Dumbledore." Harry said, and they realised at once that the potion had worn off. "We went to great lengths to discover the reason behind Voldemort's attack, and the curse that failed. It would be impossible to bring him down without the proper information."

"You broke into the Department of Mysteries?" Lupin said, slightly shaken.

"No. And neither did my Father. You can check it under Veritaserum if you don't believe me." Harry said, glaring at them. "Are we done? Only, it's supposed to be my first day of school."

Lupin nodded weakly. Nobody had moved; everyone in the hall was packed as close to the Ravenclaw table as they could get, but they all took a step back when Harry rose from his seat. Hermione rose with him, looking at him to see if he was alright, but he only motioned to her slightly and they walked from the hall together. Harry took only a few moments of pause at the door.

"Oh, and it was _nice_ to see you again too, Godfather." He said loudly enough for everyone to hear and with a sarcastic ring to it that could not be mistaken.

The doors banging behind him in the Great Hal echoed through the silence, broken only by the sound on Sirius Black falling into a seat at the Ravenclaw table with a sob.

**A/N:**Chapter 6. The Veritaserum scene was a bugger to write, and I'm still not too happy with it. Will possibly go back and edit it later but I wanted to get this up before I went to work (which I'm already running late for as I'm writing this - damn addictive fanfiction-writing!). Next time: Classes, and the papers do indeed have a field-day.

x**E**x


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